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I’ve almost forgotten how to do this

Photo by Kyle Cassidy

Er, hello. This feels completely alien. Not entirely sure why I’m doing this. Well, partly it’s because I paid a good bit of money to keep my hosting and my domain name. And I guess partly because I wanted to at least say something.

So looking over my blog I see that September 12, 2010 was the last time I posted. Er, yeah, that’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m still working for EdenFantasys. I’m still single and still a virgin. heh I’m still fucked up mentally and without a steady playmate. So much has changed and so much remains the same. Isn’t that how it goes? Of course, I’m still busy with everything. I’ve allowed myself to be consumed by this state of busy-ness that I’m always tired and achy. There’s more to it than simply work–I haven’t been physically well for some time. But spending hours in working at a computer doesn’t help matters. Not that I’m ungrateful to work from home, it’s just that it can take its toll on a body. And their mind.

I’ve more or less merged my past online identity with my current one, if only in my head. I’m now open about being a writer and an editor. I mostly wrote poetry and my sessions as an editor were only on online publications. You’ll notice I used the past tense of the word “write” in that last sentence. I rarely write creatively anymore; 99% of my writing is business related. I don’t have the time or inclination for it anymore, though I wish I did. Unfortunately, being busy with anything other than being creative kills said creativity. This is my current state: Dead creativity. I have just typed “creativity” way too many fucking times.

I guess that I’m still in a state of personal mess, just like the title and content of my last post here divulged. Numerous times I’ve attempted to change, to improve, to become less busy…but I fail as I always have. I’m just existing moment by moment and not in any healthy or joyous way. Dear fuck this post is depressing, but I am honestly depressed. But it’s always a fight, isn’t it? Nothing comes easy or why would be bother? Lately, though, I’ve been a terrible fighter…just going through the motions and getting the shit knocked out of me in the process.

I miss writing, I do. A close friend is writing a novel and has shown a great deal of talent and potential. I admit harboring some jealousy, but I’m also truly happy for them. It just serves as a reminder of how I’m not writing a bloody thing anymore. Hell, at the very least I was writing pieces for Eden Cafe. I just looked and my last piece was from June of last year, nearly a whole fucking 12 months!

I had hoped by “merging” my writing past with my present self would kick my brain into writing, but it’s done jack shit besides writing this post. Color me not impressed. Of course, I was mainly a poet, which is not something that excites most people. Hell, it doesn’t excite me. I tend to roll my eyes when someone says they’re a poet. For a poet I’m not overly impressed with poetry in general. It’s ironic, really. I fucking hate most poetry and have all my life, I just happened to have a knack for writing the stuff. Well, I used to anyway. Now I have a knack for being busy, sick, and stressed. Yay me? Ah, well. Such is life, eh?

I don’t think I have anything to say else at the moment, so I’ll leave you with a song that’s been stuck in my head today.

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