I wasn’t getting enough sleep or anything done around the corners of my life, so I created a blog. I figured it was the most productive thing I could do with my free time.
I read somewhere–was it V?–who said something to the effect that bad writers create a blog so that they can pretend that they’re working on their writing. Good for them.
By the way, I’m a bad writer. Pleased to meet you.
So why am I here? Well, because I have something to say. Not right now, mind you, but in general, I do. I think the world is a messed up place, and not for (all of) the same reasons that everyone else seems to think it is.
More importantly, I need a place to collect my thoughts because I keep losing the slips of paper. No, that’s only partially true. I don’t usually lose the scraps: I either forget about them or find them while sifting through old junk but the pencil lines are difficult to read. This way, at least, I have a semi-permanent place to keep all my stuff so I can search it without getting dust up my nose.
Okay, seal’s broken. Next post might be more meaningful.