There is no way to tell what my next blog entry will be about. I have written down all sorts of things today – several incomplete paragraphs touching on the beauty of life to the magic of Puddles Pity Party. It’s difficult to blog sometimes. Why do my words matter? They don’t really. They’re just words but I do try to lace them with some sort of sentiment or message or something that may result in a connection or two.
Am I a Good Writer?
Maybe I should share news about some horrendous cascade of tragedies? Maybe I should dive deeply into the realities outside my front door that are more than I can bear? Maybe? What is the point of being optimistic or jovial or happy about anything? Self-loathing and fear based rhetoric does seem to be the type of incendiary content that some if not most tend to gravitate toward. See! Toward is a preposition. Isn’t one of the golden rules of grammar not to end sentences with a preposition? Alas, I am not a good writer.
Who needs to be obvious? Well, if you’re not perhaps no one will get what you are trying to say? Hmmm. The human mind is capable of so much more. I know that it is. Therefore, why settle for something easy? We could traverse the intellectual flow if we chose to. There are countless ways to say what you need to say and I have chosen one today. This is but a fragment, a moment, a taste. It is my mind circling around as the vultures do in the sky ready to take advantage of the easy meal below.
Let me say dear friends that in this moment, I give thanks that I can share words with you. My words are not important in any sense but I do hope that sometimes you enjoy them.
- The Problems of the President
- Father’s Day