Monday, June 17, 2013

A Burning Sort Of Itch

I'm not that funny in real life. Most of my conversational humor is accidental, stemming from a shrillness of tone, a pension for self-deprecation and a general lack of coordination. I have also discovered of late -- due in no small part to Buddy Holly's insistence -- severe shortcomings in the Comeback department (reference: "no, you're a -----!" brand of humor). So you can understand my surprise when feedback from this little experiment that began many months ago included what some called "humor writing." Yeah, I try really hard. That's probably the least surprising part.


I have also been called "a Winston."


Some of you may remember a variety of posts that cropped up here and there, when the humor ran dry and the focus seemed to wane, relating to my confusion as to what the fuck I'm doing writing in the first place. And then a couple weeks ago, that random thing about stars and water and shit. Are you wondering where I've gone? Do you miss me? Am I delusional over how much people really care?


Whichever of the three it might be, I don't want to know. Let's just all keep it to ourselves (I'll still be watching my stats. That's just how self-absorbed I am).




I understand that when I began this project, those interspersed, pleading posts about my direction and my focus and my life and wah wah wah; now make complete sense. Yes I am slightly ashamed at the publicity of my drama. But we'll all get over it.


Taking a break from any creative endeavor is usually relieving but always devastating. The never-ending struggle: to allow for the influx of information in order to breathe it out in creating, without beating yourself senseless for it. It's a process I've never been able to remedy within myself, but one that, if ignored, inevitably leads to periods of silence like the last few you all have been experiencing. The one thing that the final breakdown does teach us is where the focus lies.


Which is why I am -- to quote the fashionionistas of our realm -- simply swooning over what is in store here. These last few months have served me well. What at the beginning of the radio silence had become a numbness is now swelling into a persistent itch. And it's burning.


So stay tuned, everyone. I'm excited. You're excited. Let's just not give each other chlamydia, K?




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