Saturday, January 22, 2005

Titles are more burdensome than previously considered.

I’m miserably incapable of blogging right now. Words just don’t seem to convey the things I’m thinking and feeling. I’ve wrote four entries tonight, none of which seemed worth posting. I don’t know if the problem is that I’ve lost sight of myself, or if I’ve maybe just caught sight of myself and found me lacking. I don’t know if I’ve lost sight of you, dear reader, or if I’ve just now remembered that you existed and found you less appealing than when I last really considered you.

I apologize if I’ve not been what I should have been; if I’ve said things that I shouldn’t have said or if I left unsaid those things that I should have said. I can’t and won’t promise that I’ll improve on future attempts.

The nature of this blog is a flawed one. My audience is simply too mixed. Who are you, general reader? Will you stay for more than thirty seconds, or will you count down these few, wasted though precious moments of your lifetime and rush on to waste thirty seconds more? Are you a long lost friend who’s missing me from afar, or simply waiting and watching to see how long it takes me to fall flat on my face?

I’m becoming increasingly uncomfortable with beginnings, middles and endings. It’s getting harder to care about keeping up with the Jones’, or giving a damn who holds political office, or what taxes are going to be raised, or if we should teach this or that in the schools.

I want simplicity and wisdom. I want being and not becoming. I want love. To love and be loved. To smile without guile. To receive a smile without cynicism.