missive from the void
Listen it's not as if I meant to stop updating this thing. There was no hiatus plan involved, no concrete decision to take a break. I just let it go for a few days, and then a few more days, and then suddenly it was easier to not-write than it was to write -- not that it has ever been especially easy to write.
There are times to take it easy, but it's not really a good way to become better.
Also I'm tired of all of you asking me -- literally like five different people in the past three days -- why I stopped updating here. Bleh! Nothing like feeling sheepish to get a body motivated.
Only because it echos my own sheepishness, though. It's a silly thing that I've done, stopping writing, and I can think of no good reason for it, so I must start writing again.
One thing I really ought to stop listening to, though, is the internalized voice I have editorializing on the quality of what I do write here. This isn't a magazine, or a paper, it is a place for me to write stuff in a keeping-the-family-updated sort of way. Several times in the past month I opened up the Post New Entry page, stared at the white screen staring back at me, and thought, I got nothing. What I was really saying was, I got nothing I think my relatives will find interesting.
Therefore, honestly, I will recommit to not actually caring if you, O Loyal & Steadfast Reader, find what I put here interesting or not. I can't care. I will endeavor to write posts without spelling or grammatical errors, write things that I find interesting, instead. Listening to that internal voice (I ought to give it a name; it's not me, it's the entrenched fears and anxieties my subconscious has absorbed throughout the decades) is how I stop writing. Fuck that shit.
There are times to take it easy, but it's not really a good way to become better.
Also I'm tired of all of you asking me -- literally like five different people in the past three days -- why I stopped updating here. Bleh! Nothing like feeling sheepish to get a body motivated.
Only because it echos my own sheepishness, though. It's a silly thing that I've done, stopping writing, and I can think of no good reason for it, so I must start writing again.
One thing I really ought to stop listening to, though, is the internalized voice I have editorializing on the quality of what I do write here. This isn't a magazine, or a paper, it is a place for me to write stuff in a keeping-the-family-updated sort of way. Several times in the past month I opened up the Post New Entry page, stared at the white screen staring back at me, and thought, I got nothing. What I was really saying was, I got nothing I think my relatives will find interesting.
Therefore, honestly, I will recommit to not actually caring if you, O Loyal & Steadfast Reader, find what I put here interesting or not. I can't care. I will endeavor to write posts without spelling or grammatical errors, write things that I find interesting, instead. Listening to that internal voice (I ought to give it a name; it's not me, it's the entrenched fears and anxieties my subconscious has absorbed throughout the decades) is how I stop writing. Fuck that shit.