I think I might be back-sorta. I don’t know. I just often don’t feel up to writing on this blog, or if I do, by the time I have a chance to write about whatever’s on my mind I’ve stopped caring.

Interestingly, I don’t feel a sense of burnout because of people’s reactions to what I say. I can handle criticism. I don’t really much care what people think about me. I can handle it. (Although I’m not going to let people waste my webspace by posting comments in which they call me a cunt. That’s not actually censorship, BTW, to those who feel so inclined; accusations of such will be cackled at and deleted anyway.) And it’s not that there’s just so many horrible things in the world that I get overwhelmed, that I don’t want to bother trying…I’m nothing if not stupidly ambitious.

It’s just there are too many things to write about. How do I pick and choose? If I focus on the issues of interest to me, I feel like I’m ignoring much bigger more important issues. I worry people will think I don’t care about those things, and I do, it’s just I only have so much time in the day and I’d rather just write down whatever theory is currently in my head. There’s just so many things to focus my attention on, and I can’t physically manage to cram it all into this blog… So I feel more burnt-out by the presence of my own limitations than anything else (heh, story of my life).

But there’s always something going through my head. There’s always something outrageous to write about. There’s always something so horrible I feel like I can’t not say anything…because sometimes it feels like nobody else will if I don’t. So I post intermittently anyway.

I’ll admit I’ve been really depressed since June. For months I could hardly feel motivated to get up and do anything, but I had to, so I did…barely. I wasn’t functional at all for awhile. I think I’m feeling better now; I’m still upset about how Susie went and I still miss her constantly, but I adopted a new ferret in August and he’s the sweetest most affectionate thing. He’s the biggest most obnoxious menace ever, always ripping things up and knocking stuff over, but how can you not forgive a normally hyperactive creature who loves to sit on your lap (and only your lap) calmly and quietly, who follows you around the house, and comes when you call, but who will not do these things for anyone else, ever? It’s love. And my other ferret likes him, too.

Anyway, feeling better, but mostly concerned for the moment with fiction writing. I don’t know what that means for the blog. I hope I can get up the motivation and inspiration to get it really going again. I tried a few weeks ago (you might have noticed) and it kind of just died. Or rolled over and fell back asleep. Or some other inappropriately personifying metaphor.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 5th, 2007 at 10:57 pm and is filed under Random.