for the first time in forever, i’m spilling. i’m creating this virtual hovel so i’ve got a place to stash all the words that i’ve let accumulate, that i’m possibly letting overwhelm me. i’ve never had a fear of drowning, but i’m wondering if that’s what will happen to me, if i’m not careful.
a close friend said it best, that allowing time to pass without giving your internal junk some kind of verbal release can eventually lead to emotional constipation. i’ve had little reason to hold back, given the way things have developed and mutated over the past year, but i still wonder what’s bubbling beneath the surface. when you have something singular to focus your energy and attention toward, you risk neglecting everything else. so i’m minimizing risk and maximizing return. or some other adult concept that i’ve completely failed to digest and adhere to - up until now.
so follow along as i tamp down the ground on an unmarked grave in this stupid little corner of the www. watch closely as nothing remarkable or marked materializes. sigh with disinterest as you pore through the humdrum, unexceptional musings of a life more ordinary.
i’m not actually this down on myself, but now you know what you’re in for. proceed at your own risk.