I'm sick of sitting around here trying to write this book

Some of you peeps who use Firefox might have told me that this place looks like an eye sore. I just, finally joined this decade and got Firefox and was horrified at the aesthetics up in here. I’m working on it, but as with everything else, it will be a gradual process that takes forever and will probably still look like amateur hour at the Apollo.

For some reason, I felt old for the first time in a long time this past week. The strange thing is that I felt old due to a bunch of people that are all younger than me. And it was not in that oh, I am so jealous, they are so spry and sassy, while I am this old clod way either.

J has suspended blogging. As I was wading into deep melancholy about that, I began to think about how many people have curbed their blogging. Some of these people were dedicated writers who waxed lyrical about all sorts of things near and dear to my heart. Others captured their feelings and experiences in a way that was so acute that it felt immediate as I was reading it. Still others made me feel unworthy. And others just cracked me up with random awesomeness.

It seems like I am in the camp of a few others who are in some kind of blog-xistential crisis about whether we should continue forward. For me, some of this relates to a type of old guard, a crew of people who encouraged me when I first started writing here and nudged me along. Now it seems a large portion of these folks have moved on and away. I have not even met some of them, but it feels like that divide that occasionally forms between married and single friends. It forces you to stop and think, I am still here. But is this where I want to be? I still do not know. But I’ll agree with Maitri, who pointed out that blogging does require some back and forth. If you feel no one is reading, or is not sufficiently interested to make a remark, you can keep writing for some time, but not indefinitely. With so many of that old guard gone, I do question whether I rely on their fuel to keep lighting my way.

Then I tell myself to shut it and admit that some of this also has to do with having no time. This is another reason having no leisure time is problematic- truly busy people are a little boring. They seem interesting, because they are on the run. But unfortunately, what they are up to is only interesting to them, and even if interesting to others, there is no time to talk or explain.

I am so close to finishing a major milestone for The Goal and yet so woefully far away. In parallel, the process is also getting me so close to realizing something and yet that realization too is far away. A match light illuminates a thought, but just when I am about to make it out, the light goes out. So, I keep seeing the shape of a thing. I feel I am onto something big, but I just have not made the big discovery, not yet.

The problem, of course, is that it’s me who keeps extinguishing the light. It’s not a match so much as a spark in my head, but I have, of late, taken to telling myself not now, there is not time for such thoughts right now. And that is odd, because I never used to be that person. When the spark sheds lights, ghosts and demons appear in the darkness. They offer to show me the way, but I have spent too much time with apparitions in the past. I have been misled by their ethereal light in the past, wandered around in the haze. So I choose darkness instead. And that feels weak.