I don’t leave the house anymore


I’ve given up on writing as of late – not officially, and with the steadfast intention of coming back, but I’ve given up on some level. Normally, If I wasn’t doing something with this blog, I was at least keeping a journal, but I haven’t even done that since the beginning of 2021.

I don’t want to bum people out – I have almost nothing positive to say. I love complaining and I love listening to other people complain (as long as they give me a little variety), but I don’t know if enough people have the same proclivity to justify constantly complaining on my blog. The things I’m most upset about I can’t share, either because they are embarrassing or too personal or both. Also, unfortunately, there are several people I know in real life who are aware of this blog, so I can’t even talk shit about them. LOL.

Yesterday I was listening to a podcast, and the guest was talking about what a brilliant work of fantasy Lord of the Rings is (I wholeheartedly agree), and I found myself becoming envious – what I wouldn’t give to be able to captivate the imagination like Tolkien. I thought to myself, Hey, jerk, sounds like you like writing a lot, why don’t you do it? If someone sings the praises of a great athlete, I don’t feel envy. I don’t care – I’m not interested. I’m content to literally walk in circles for exercise until the end of time. But when people compliment writers, I feel that twinge.

So, have I started writing again? Eh, not really, but I’m working up to it. The Dark House 2 draft is creeping back into my consciousness. I’m writing this, and I’m actually going to post it right away instead of holding off with the excuse of editing and never putting it out. Maybe I’ll go ahead and complain on my blog, it might be better than nothing.