someone asked me what was up with the hiatus in my writing. i don’t really know. in the last 24 hours, i’ve put myself on pregnant pause, lest i end up looking like the fool i did 5 years ago when i was feeling (high and) low and put so much stuff out there that i feel foolish about it now. i went back and made some of that stuff private, thinking that i had offended the person who a lot of it was about, only to find that they weren’t that concerned about it after all.
five years later, i’m back doing the same dance — trying to figure out what it all means, and finding myself heartbroken in sort of the same ways again. i guess that’s all i’ll say, otherwise i’ll end up doing the same shit again, and expecting different results — oh yes, i guess that’s what i’ve already done. laughing my fucking ass off here. no, i’m not. i’m crying and wondering why i’m such a fucking dolt, actually.
i don’t know why i’ve gone on hiatus. probably some sort of form of one of newton’s laws (here comes bob). body in motion tends to stay in motion thing. having no job has led me to get some stuff done. it’s also allowed me to stay stagnant, i suppose. i don’t know. i feel like everyone is getting fixed and taken care of but me, and that i have absolutely no one to blame … but me.
see? i don’t really have anything important to say here. unless i spill all my guts, every last one of them, sprawling out in lurid detail, i don’t have anything. i’m just done. so, i don’t know. i’m going to try and keep this going. this blog means something to me. but i need to figure out how to make it work. tim gunn, where the hell are you?