November 10th, 2009

Whale fluke

Writing constipation

This is a post about posting. And, more generally, writing about writing.

I'm in a more fallow period, and I don't really like that. Not posting as much, not writing as in-depth when I do, not interacting with other bloggers as much. At the moment, I'm a little bored with blogging. Second-guessing my writing a lot, too: I think Is this what I want to be writing about?

(I did that a lot during the previous job, the one I quit last month. Many things made me want at first to write, at least to vent about the increasingly weird and difficult vibe there, but I'd often put the brakes on by thinking If I look back in a month or a year, do I want to be reminded of this? Because I dwell on stuff, and posting about stuff runs the risk of Future Me thinking about stuff again and starting to dwell on it again. And I want and need to get some distance from that. So that was one big thing I was blogging less about than I would have, say, three years ago.)

As said, I think I'm a little bored with my writing. I've been trying to write about the Raising Arizona screening back on Friday, and the fun of that night is resisting coming out in what I've written, so I haven't posted that yet. And the farther I get from that night, the potentially less relevant such a post is. If it's interesting enough, that's not a problem, but what I've written isn't interesting yet.

There's also the worry that I'm talking at instead of talking to. I'm interacting less than I'd like. I haven't been leaving as many comments on other people's journals, and haven't been getting as many from others. The back-and-forth feeds this journal and the mind that creates it, and I've done less back-and-forth. (This is true on Twitter at the moment, too, and those messages often are the equivalent of, as Bobby "Fatboy" Roberts put it, "brain farts." Twitter is usually EASY.)

I know people are reading; I want to give them something worthwhile to read.

If I'm a little more quiet than usual, those are some of the reasons why. Maybe I need a break. We'll see. Maybe I'll feel better about my writing and posting after posting this. We'll see.

I'm still here. I want to be more "here," if that makes sense.

Feel better, Chris. Feel better, everybody.
NCC-1701 Nebula 2

The world does its worldly thing

News happened today.

I saw some of it at a distance. At midday I could see a Southeast Portland fire from the office tower where I'm working. And that is a METAPHOR, ladies and gentlemen! At most, I saw today's news at a distance. It hit my peripheral vision, if that, and at most I acknowledged it and continued with what was in front of me.

Because I'm concentrating on my training at this job. It's important concentration; I'm doing a much different job than what I've done before. I call it "my test job," and a co-worker rightly pointed out that all of life is a test, isn't it, but this attitude I have allows me to accept the conditions of the job and just go Let's see if I can do this. And, with some dwelling exceptions, as I'm one hell of a dweller, I've been nicely non-stressed about this work. I don't take it for granted, but I've let jobs take over my life before, and I think I've finally learned how that, at many levels, hurts me.

Still. Kind of a heads-down time, hunkered down, trying to do something, and the world is there mainly as background. For now. I'll pay more attention later. The world is doing its thing, I'm doing mine.