The remarkable event I wrote of in Part I gave way to another remarkable event – I started thinking about blogging again. Uugghh – it was back. Those thoughts that filled me with such a mixed bag of emotions. So what was I going to do about them this time?
I visited my old blog. I took a peek at the 31 different babblings of words in my drafts folder. That made me wonder if I still had an old Word document on my computer with post ideas too. Yep, I did but this time I didn’t bother to count all of the super-dee-duper brainchildren I thought should be birthed. I read some of the published posts though. I’ll admit, I went right to the ones with the most comments and/or likes. I guess that part was just to make me feel better about my writing, to validate myself. Laugh out loud if you’ve done it too. Especially if you just took a swig of something. That would make me laugh out loud too.
To further that mission, I checked to see how many followers I had. Yeah, it was around the last number I remembered knowing. Wasn’t sure how many of them were even still out there. Had others abandoned their blogs too? Probably. Had they just not gone in to manage their Reader in awhile? Likely some. Was I really so moonstruck that I wondered if any were still following, hoping I would show up in their Reader again one day? Yes I was. Darn that need to seek self-worth externally.
You might be wondering why I did stop writing. Well, I kinda am too. I don’t have a simple, concrete, and concise answer to provide you. Rather, my response is complicated, mushy, and broken into smithereens. Gee, I really am fond of that word smithereens. Almost makes the brokenness of it not sound so bad. It was, in part, because I went through a spell of having lost my creative juices. No, that’s not totally honest. I thought I had lost them. They were still there. I had just tried to put the plug in the jug, blocking them from pouring out of me.
And the reason I did that dear readers is simple this time: Envy. One of the seven deadly sins.
Well, I could probably write another trilogy on just that part of my story. Maybe even a thirtyology. But rather than trying to do it myself right now, I’m going to leave you with this 1985 song, originally by The Waterboys. The lyrics have always spoken to me, but how so has changed over the years. When I went looking for a video of the song, I came across this magnificent cover by Fiona Apple. The song has heightened my love for it because of the beautiful and dramatic video she created.
His words. Her artistry. My musings. Enjoy.
Picture credit: Nick Bondarev on Pexels.
Their Words. My Musings. 