A Broken Silence

It is 10:44 PM on Sunday August 9^th 2009. And I feel every bit the addict that sentence befits. Only I am losing my battle. ‘My battle with the blog’ creates a lovely bit of alliteration with ‘battle with the bottle.’ Though I would never forgive myself for letting my mother know that I quoted Leonard Cohen, but as he says, ‘I fought against the bottle, but I had to do it drunk.’ A battle with who I am. A battle against the very way I see the world. I fought myself myself myself, this egocentric artist. And I lost.

So tonight, I am back.

Tonight is the night that I get my shit together. Tonight is the night I bring out every single piece of scrawled ephemera that has leaked from my pores in the time I have been away. Tonight is the night that I can tell him, “Yes this one is about you.” Tonight I can show the world that I still have the courage to do this, that I still have the need. Tonight I will once more make art.

This is not quite how I wanted to do this, but this is the way it is. I had wanted to finish with the past before I indulged the present. I did actually summon the courage to confront my old half completed blogs, and in a moment of sleepless delirium fancied that I knew how to finish them. I will. I have a lot lot of explaining to do.
I’ll be so happy when I can finish all the catching up and just write about whatever I feel like. Like the fact that I think one of the saddest manifestations of human laziness and societal degeneration is the fact that people can’t even be bothered slicing their own cheese anymore. The sliced cheese section outnumbers the cheese block section three to one.

I have so much to say.
Just not enough time and energy to say it all.


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