It has been exactly two years and one month since I have written anything here. I’ve been writing elsewhere, or more often, not at all.
There are two things I know for sure with regard to my writing or blogging. I don’t write when I’m gloriously super happy (and as you look over the truly prolific archives of this site you can glean I haven’t had a lot of gloriously super happy times in my life since February of 2004 when this whole thing began … and not for a long while before that either, truth be known). But looking back over my writings (not shared here) from the past two years, I can easily see times of glorious super happiness in the blank pages.
I am capable of writing (though only in private forums, for my eyes only) when I am in the deepest darkest pits of depression and chaos, but I also usually don’t. I write the most when I’m okay, nothing more, nothing less, just okay. Inspiration strikes me most for some reason when my life is in a state of mediocrity. Which I guess is kind of bizarre, but there it is.
I’ve been thinking of returning to this blog for a few months now. Off and on I have glimpses of inspiration for what might turn out to be an entertaining post. Like when I watched the entire Twin Peaks series on Netflix for the first time. Boy! Did I have some stuff to say about that!
Or as I was reading Rick Springfield’s or Rob Lowe’s biography. I so appreciated Rick’s raw frankness, even if he was an ass. And I wanted Rob to tell me more, go deeper. I felt like he was skimming over so much that I would have liked to explore.
Or when I went to Frye Festival in Moncton for the first time in years, there was so much fodder for posts from David Gilmour appearing to be a completely self-absorbed arrogant ass (to my utter disappointment, since he was the one author I really looked forward to seeing) to absolutely falling in love with the unexpected creative genius of Buck 65 (whose performance I had thought I would simply endure for an hour, then go to bed early) and finding my soul sister in Rose Cousin’s lyrics and completely unexpectedly my sister from another mother in Linda, the woman who owns the Bed & Breakfast where I stayed.
Oh, there’s been much to write about. Many many thoughts entering my subconscious and demanding that I do something with them.
For those who may not know I’ve been going through a very rough period. There has been nothing but suckage piled upon suckage for me so far in 2012 and I have every reason to believe that the second half of this year and most of next year will contain only more of the same.
2010 didn’t finish very strongly, meaning 2011 began on a bit of a low, then hit a stride in very early springtime and perked up considerably to the point of a gloriously happy writing silence before finally hitting a brick wall last Fall. And it’s been all downhill since then. Just when you think, that’s it, the bottom, no place to go but up from here … you find yourself plummeting even further.
At this writing I honestly don’t know how deep this hole goes.
And yet, amidst all the crises and turmoil, there are thoughts about completely mundane ordinary everyday things that invade my mind and demand to be written about.
And I consider giving in to their demands …
And then I read this blog post on one of the few blogs that I still read on a regular basis, and I knew that the time had come to take this up again, to return to this place where I used to spend so much time when I was just okay. Because she’s right of course, it’s important.
And perhaps it’s even more important for me to be blogging right now than it ever has been. Because if I’m writing then I’m okay. And being just okay seems like as good a plan as any right now.
So I’m back. Expect nothing spectacular, just random thoughts from a mediocre life.