I haven’t blogged consistently in over a year. In fact, unless it’s been journaling, letters to friends or lists that are never fully actioned, I haven’t done much writing at all. I can blame that on any number of things, but the truth of the matter is that I have been incredibly uninspired. Perhaps it’s been a case of history repeating itself, but I feel like the lesson in action and consequence has been perpetual and in my hiatus, physically and mentally exhausting. Relationships and finances have taken a battering, and yet, I’m still here. A little frayed around the edges and missing a few people that have helped me figure myself out that little bit more, but that’s life.
During my sojourn, I couldn’t help but peek at a few friends’ personal blogs just to see what was going on in their world. People were mourning, celebrating, hurting, amusing, documenting… existing. Some of these bloggers, I knew personally before they started writing and have effectively shot to pseudo-celebrity status for their words. Some, I had met through blogging. Pretty much all had either attended or were turned down at the door to my open-invite 21st birthday party. I’ve laughed and cried with these people, celebrating additions to families (feline/canine/human) and mourning dear relatives I have never even met. I considered them friends, and had often bridged the gap of geographical distance by either calling, writing, drinking, or dining with them. Some, I would even consider family, in lieu of one that I haven’t been a part of for over ten years.
I suppose this spiritual/emotional/mental/karmic “Prodigal Son” complex I have so deftly manifested in myself has stepped aside for an undeniable sadness that I have felt for just as long; I miss my friends. Some are no longer friends. Some are no longer friends because I pushed them away. For those who I connected with beyond the realms of the Internet, for those I have hurt in one way or another – I am sincerely sorry. You know who you are and I hope you got to know me well enough to know that while I’m not so good with words when it’s really needed, my apology is genuine.
Fear of karma. Fear of being there for a friend. Fear of losing some of the most magnificent characters I’ve ever met (or not met) in my life. Fear of missing out. Fear of losing touch. Fear of fear itself. I’m sick of it. Whether I have something to report or not, I think it’s important that I get back in touch, and I suppose the most meaningful, heartfelt contribution I can make is to write.
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10 comments:
Soo... drinkypoos in a couple of weekends time then?
I was just telling someone today that blogging has become sort of passe now, and you kind of go through ups and downs with your own blog at times. Sometimes you get lots of energy and want to share things with complete strangers, and other times you just cannot be arsed with the online world at all. It happens to everyone, I think.
Don't be a stranger, Rinns. I've often found that the time thing doesn't matter nearly as much as one thinks - especially if one is to make, say, for example, lengthy and painful trips to, say, Newcastle in the name of friendship on occasion...
Can I get an AMEN!?
Mish: DrinkssoonYES. I wouldn't say that blogging is passe... I think it serves its purpose if you are in the right frame of mind and have set boundaries for yourself. BB got way too personal at times and I suppose the weight of Scrawled's audience while trying to keep offline-life afloat really got to me. At any rate, I must stir the muse and the alcoholic soon or, as Paris Hilton so famously threatened, DIE.
Nails: I just rang your work to chase up a nasal swab and caught Melli J. 1 - you're on annual leave... for Newy? It goes past my place, you should've messaged! 2 - Mary's last day tomorrow? Lord help Hurstville!
Racho - Woot!
Oh no, I was on annual leave for housesitting but it fell through and then I got this great idea [which, as my great ideas usually do, turned to shit real fast] to go visit a friend in Newcastle. Ideas = bad. BAD. Bloody trains.
Nails - I was going to say you should visit me, but it's far easier for me to swing by town and say hi... what are your hours these days anyway?
Good to see your words again. Please, keep it up.
If there's track work then no, I am so never visiting you [oh the freakin' trauma!].
I'm 12-8 Tuesday to Saturday.
I quit blogging during my second tour last year. My blog kinda just stopped. It's still there. I think I'll start it again sometime soon, but after all I've been through, even internet attachments are probably too much for me. For Christ's sake, I'm not even letting myself have a cat for fear that I'll lose it. Anyway, things aren't bad at the moment, which means that life is sure to take a dump on me soon. But for now, things are quite well. I'm back in the desert for a 3rd time, but this time as a civilian in Kuwait. It took me two trips to figure out the money was better on this side of the road! I thought about you the other day when I overheard (read: eavesdropped) an Aussie gal's phone conversation. When she hung up I told her she had one of the most colorful vocabularies I'd heard in a bit.
MHE: I'll try to, yo. Good to see you up and running again, yourself.
nails: There's ALWAYS trackword at Hornizzy.
ron: Dude, you were one of the ones I actually enjoyed reading because it was real and so far out of my general perspective that I couldn't help but chew on thoughts for the little while after reading your entries. Always a pleasure, mate.
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