It's been a while. January 17 to be exact. Since I wrote anything I mean. I was driving in the car tonight thinking about writing and how much I like it. Or the idea of it anyway. Some days back last year when I was writing an idea would lodge itself in my mine and I couldn't wait to get home and start writing and mostly I didn't really know where I was going with the thought or idea but it just came out. Admittedly none of my writing is all that good but it felt so good to get it out. I was beginning I had something worth some value. (I have lots worth value but this was a new and shiny thing of value). Then I stopped.
Can I be gross? Sure, why not you say. I can say you say 'cause it's my blog. And I'm a boy at heart and this is what goes through my mind. Constipation. I've not been constipated much in my life, thank God. Diarrhea, sure lots. If you eat like I do, well... . I have a great digestive system so being plugged up doesn't happen that often but when it does, MAN! I sit on the pot and wait and wait, grit my teeth and groan and...well, you get the picture. Told you I was gross. So I sit and wait and wait for that magical POP when my intestines let go of what they've for too long held onto. Ok. Enough.
I'm kind of in depression. I think. Really I'm not sure what depression is But I sorta feel bummed out a lot and can't seem to get motivated to do lots. It feels like there's no life in my life which isn't true but it sure feels that way. And I avoid people more than I ought because I don't want to lie, "...Great Shirley, how are you...?" or dump on someone"...don't ask how he is Frank, he'll unload..." so I stay around the fringes. And It's lonely out here. Life is hard and sometimes doesn't turn out like you imagine. You think you can deal with a hard marriage, hard job, mediocre and getting worse health but at some point some of run out of steam and you want to retire to the lazyboy and just melt into history. How I feel some days. I posted once that midlife crisis is realizing that you're not all that, and you don't have the strength or energy to become half of what people think you are. I feel that way. But I am special. I am talented and gifted and have much to offer, for a long time. I hope. I doesn't really matter what people think I guess. Really just matters what my Dad says. He likes me.
So here I sit in front of the keyboard hoping to write something. Sigh. It's been a long time. Lots of times I've sat here over the last months with my fingers (well, just the typing two) poised over the keys waiting for magic words to appear in my mind and I draw blanks. Nothing. Nada. Mind constipation, trying to squeeze something out but all I get are the shakes and sweats. Bummer. And I bought all this mind toilet paper to use. Someday soon......
