The Long Stare

I've been sitting here, staring at the monitor, for over an hour. As if some fascinating bit of writing will magically appear. It ain't happening.

I even asked my merry band of miscreants for some topic suggestions and I got bupkis mit kuduchas. Thanks guys.

This is how it is some days.

Part of it is that I'm feeling more than a little reticent based on the observation of a friend of mine. He made a comment earlier, "I'm telling you man, blogs... there is SO much bullshit out there..."

I know he's reading this right now and screaming at his monitor, "But I didn't mean you, B!" And, of course he didn't. I know that.

But you know I'm going to take it into consideration regardless. It's true, I often wonder what the point of this blog is, what my point is. Why do I do it? In a day that is already too short on hours, I spend anywhere from half an hour to two hours sitting here playing shuffle board with words. For what? My own gratification and self-satisfaction at having kept myself sane for another day? I suppose that's worth something, but I could just as easily do that in a private journal, couldn't I?

Why the blog? Why the need to spackle the walls of the internet with my deepest thoughts - important to anyone but me or not?

I'm not looking for validation or reassurance. I think it's my way of screaming out to the Universe from the bottom of my personal little fuzz ball, "I am here! I am here! I am heeeeeerrrre!!!!"

Maybe that's it.

Because, obviously, I can't not post. Even when I feel that my words are boring and stilted, I can't keep myself from hitting the "publish post" button.

I am here.