I’ve recently experienced a resurgence in my writing. Why? Well, I think I have a lot to get out of my system.

So, where does it go? Here. Only here. Forget the audience. For now, anyway.

I have a friend who is urging me to share the writing to the socials profiles.

Haha. No.

For starters, I haven’t been writing regularly for some time now. As such, my writing, to be honest, isn’t very good. And I appear to be using a lot of commas. Necessary? Perhaps.

As I write, the nuggets of gold will begin to appear. Those? May be worth sharing.

Yet, social media is largely a cesspool. Am I really compelled to add to it?

Currently, my curmudgeonly writing will only affirm how much most content stinks. Mentally, I’m off. Once again, I find myself in a life I didn’t necessarily want. I don’t believe anymore. I’m not good for anyone else. Hell, I’m not good for myself right now.

Is writing therapeutic? Maybe. Putting it in a place where none of it is ever lost? Less so, I think. There’s nothing like those reminders that one hasn’t learned a damn thing in the last twenty years... in spite of floating in and out of awareness of my weaknesses—and possible strengths.

At least now I’ve known love. And she has known love. She’s properly groomed... for the next one.

Do I really feel that way? Isn’t past behavior the best predictor of future behavior?

No, for now I will not contribute to the stench that is the Facebook.

I used to be funny. I’ll continue to post small attempts at that.

Then again... maybe I am looking at this invitation to share all wrong.

Okay, my writing is not at a caliber to share with the greater world. What do I need to do to improve that? Perhaps that is the challenge I am facing.

Life. Oh, life. I stubbornly resist nudging life in a direction where I might actually thrive. Excel. Again, I don’t believe. The evidence suggests that only a handful of people actually live a life that they want. Look around!

Failure is common. Struggle is common. Colossally bad decisions... are common.

Find my edge is the advice. Keep pushing my edge. No is a gift!

No. No is the standard. No no longer affects me, and hasn’t for as long as I can remember.

Yes, on the other hand, is unbelievable when I hear it. You must be mistaken.

This. This is why I don’t believe in sales. Nor affirmations. Nor love. Nor forever. Nor success. In my house of no, I have no frame of reference.

“I am exactly where I belong,” the gurus say. No, I cannot believe my writing will achieve anything. Look back in this space. Take a tequila shot for every emo post. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the out. Surely there is a ditch to dig.

Now that this is out of my system... I’ll look at life again. Fresh perspective. What have I learned? What is worth sharing? Can an old curmudgeon... believe?