3 Comments

Therapy.

This blog has been in it’s second decade for a few months and the other night I entertained myself by reading some of the older posts I’ve splattered up here on the intertubes. (What an odd choice of words?!?)

Earl doesn’t really enjoy it when I do this sort of thing (the reading past entries, not the splattering) because I tend to crack myself up with my writing at times and I enjoy engaging in howls of laughter. It’s like a form of therapy for me and in this day and age of political unrest, high prices, unemployment and ending of the free glasses campaign at McDonalds, lord knows we all need howls of laughter in our lives.

Speaking of the therapeutic nature of this, I have to admit that I do find a bit of stress relief by writing in the blog and though it has taken a conscious effort to maintain the blog, especially in this day and age of spurts of wit via Twitter, Facebook and the like (again with the weird word selection). When I take my focus off of the world and into the world that I am writing about as I plod along on my keyboard du jour, I find that the knots in my head unwind a little bit, my left eyebrow cocks up as I concentrate (I just noticed that) and that a smile forms on my face, even when I’m writing about unfortunate topics such as taxes, the dismal selection of presidential candidates and DMV clerks that should be named “Donut Breath”™.

I noticed that my older entries were a little more outpouring as to what was going on in my head. Perhaps I was a little less rough around the edges back then and I didn’t think anyone was really reading my entries, so I would share some things that I’m not sure I would share today. Ironically, these posts seemed to be my better written entries. Maybe I had a little more time to sit down and write instead of sitting in the Jeep 60 miles from home on a daily exercise called “lunch hour”. There was a certain amount of therapy in those writings that I think I miss and I need to find a way to get back to. I sense a little more, well, something, in those earlier entries that I need to seek out again. I’ve always been complaining that I need to slow down a bit, perhaps I need to realize this and actually do it.

A couple of weeks ago I moved my habit of writing down my dreams from a notebook to a new Mac and iOS app called “Day One”. The transition has been good and I’m finding myself writing in it more than I expected to. Apparently there’s stuff inside of me that’s bubbling to get out and writing is an outlet for it.

Perhaps I should stop worrying about what people think about what I write and post (not that I think many read this anyways) and start just writing again.

1 Comment

Chestnut.

I always enjoy finding something in my closet that I haven’t worn in a long time. It must be the remnants of some gay gene I supposedly have.

I was feeling very snazzy in my new found sneakers.

Walking into the kitchen, the look did not appear to be totally of approval.

“Where did you get those sneakers?”

My answer was simple, “Ames”.

“Ames closed like 10 years ago.”

“I know.”

They’ll be in style again soon. Until then, I still feel snazzy. I was even called a DILF.