The road to hell is paved with good intentions . . . and likewise, those smelted bricks of sloth and distraction pave the path to unwritten blog posts. It is spring, and I'm feeling the need to clear away clutter, tie up loose ends, and let my rooty fingers sink into the soft, black earth. Therefore, in the interest of concluding my period of unplanned online silence with a more definitive pause, this post will serve as evidence that I have 1) not abandoned this blog, and yet 2) not found it within me to keep it updated, even on a semi-regular basis.
Frustration. Regret. Shame. Self-loathing. Justification. Acceptance. Adjustment.
So goes my cycle of grieving this space and its many unwritten words.
For now, it seems best to put my inner blogger out of her misery. I am still writing, although most of my work is currently in the state of a newly born child: covered in blood and fluids, and not quite ready to be presented to the general public. Whilst swaddling these precious, messy creations, there is little time or inclination to document their births and rebirths, at least not without neglecting their daily needs. In short, I have found that the guilt, etc. over not blogging tends to exacerbate writer’s block in my offline creative endeavors. So again, for now—which is not the same thing as forever—no new posts will be forthcoming.
Best of luck to you in your own literary pursuits. I’m sure we will meet again someday. . . .