I just found this evening that my email postings from two days ago just got published after 5pm today. Isn't that just special. But it does count as a post now, right? Ha ha, I'm just dying laughing at the whole thing at this point. For a change of pace, all my packing for the weekend is already done so I get to play awhile.
I'm rather troubled at the thought of posting anything at this point. Moments of self doubt, I suppose. I never truly meant for this thing to become a side show as my readers watch my sanity desolve. Early onset Alheimers, or something. I wanted to be a little amusing. I wanted to be a little funny. I wanted my readers (there's 7 of them now, I'm ahead of BD) to look forward to reading this thing as something light and airy, with some infinite variety, to let them get away from things for a moment, and just take a step back and relax. Instead, I feel like this thing has become a journey into the darkness. A winding trail into the mind of a minor maniac. Its starting to feel like I walking through a dark hallway, only the walls are covered with razor blades, and the thing isn't straight, and I keep bumping into things in the dark, and every time I do I feel more and more of my life essence bleeding straight out of my soul. Its the kind of soul searching experience that maybe wasn't made for spectators. God, but I didn't really want it to turn into something like this. I find myself screening, every time I go to make an entry, because I'm paranoid as hell that someone will take something I'm talking about too seriously, and the next thing I know I'll be answering the door to the Suicide watch team or the Perverts Anonymous Branch of the Jehovah's Witnesses. So what if I feel like sacrificing a goat, now and then? I feel like if I tell a story about a serial killer, I'll be in the local station in hours, and with my luck the story I told will match in details to the latest serial killer they are trying to apprehend. That's just the way things turn out with me, far too often. So now I sit back, questioning my sanity, and wonder if I have already taken this blog too far into the shadows, with no hope of pulling it out again. I think at the point that I truly believe that has happened, I may decide that its time to quit, however short lived the thing might have been. I could use some feedback, folks. Probably, no especially, from those that don't normally comment. I could just use some direction from someone outside. Because, ha ha, I'm dying here.
Michael
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3 comments:
Do you remember what you told the 'chick when she mentioned that very same thing to you??? When she talked about feeling like she had to pull punches sometimes because what was in her head did not necessarily "fit" the tone of the Roadtrip? And YOU said....write what you feel. Remember?
Write what you feel, write what you know...just write.
ahhhh the old 'throw his own words back at him' trick. See Michael! I tried to warn you against that in a recent post of my own! Its IN THE WOMEN'S handbook!
which I have never seen by the way.
BD
The 'chick remembers Way too much for my good. I'm going to have to stop sharing all of my secrets with her, if she's going to use them against me at a later date! LMAO
Michael
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