There Is No Cure For Blogging

Someone ought to ask me why there is no cure for blogging so I can tell them it is hard to answer something that isn’t really a question.

What the hell does “There Is No Cure For Blogging mean?

I like to think of it as being similar to modern art or some sort of Jackson Pollock painting.

You know, one of those pieces that is a bunch of dots, lines, squiggles and marks that have no discernible order or pattern to them. Not that it matters because even if it did you wouldn’t know what the hell to make of it.

Some expert calls it the most sensual and authoritative piece on post-modern sex and you think, WTF are they talking about.

So you squint and think that maybe the squiggle is penetrating or being penetrated by the dots and lines but don’t say anything out loud.

Partly because you’re afraid you’re wrong and the expert will think you are a fool and partly because it is so fucking stupid you can’t imagine you’re dumb enough to say you think you see some sort of sex act going on in the middle of the page/poster.

There Is No Cure For Blogging

Someone once asked me to describe my relationship with The Shmata Queen and I said, She Bit Me And I Screamed.

If you want to know what that particular line means you’ll have to click on the link and read it. Hell, if you want to know more about a lot of things you’ll need to read some of these links:

• Just Hit It Harder
• How Some Star Wars Fans Kill The Movies
• The Memory Collector
• Drunk on Blogging Or Intoxicated With Writing
• It’s Not My Fault She’s Crazy & Hysterical

Don’t know what you’ll learn or find out but I am sure you’ll gain some more insight or at least some nugget of wisdom that is worth something.

Remember when I said I am looking at new themes that I think might offer a nice look, something fresh and engaging?

Well, I am playing around with this one. Not sure yet if I am going to do it, but I might.

Is it the look I want? Is it the one that is going to provide a better reading experience and more opportunity for storytelling?

I am not sure, but I think it might be. Sometimes the only way to figure something out is to try.

Pull The Thread

I realized earlier today it is about two years to the day since I left Texas.

Hard to believe two years went by, partly because part of it was the most hellish time I have been through and part of it was just really freaking fast.

Don’t know if this was something my subconscious realized or if I know it because Facebook happened to ping me with one of their memory posts but I do know the timing of it is/was funny.

Funny in the peculiar sense of the word because it is tied into this past Saturday night.

I was in the middle of car shopping and something set me off.

Ok, a few things set me off not the least of it was the dumber than rocks sales people who couldn’t answer any questions without the help of a dictionary and someone to pull the string that makes them speak.

Somewhere in the midst of it all I realized that almost every car I have ever purchased has been something that I accepted because it was what I could afford and wasn’t what I wanted.

And I got angry because I felt like I was being pushed to look at the same type of car, the same vanilla, sterile, and affordable crap from the past.

The anger rose quickly because I am not in a position where I have to look at those cars as being the sole or preferable choice.

Doesn’t mean I have a billion dollar surplus either, but there is enough in the cupboard to do better than that and I decided better was what I wanted.

I didn’t have to focus solely on need, I could look at want too.

And I didn’t figure it out until I pulled on the thread.

Truth is I didn’t have to pull on the thread to know that leaving Texas two years ago caused a world of turmoil for me.

Some of it might have come even if I hadn’t, but my gut says otherwise. Doesn’t really matter, can’t know unless you can go back in time in which case we need to make more than one stop.

you can go back in time in which case we need to make more than one stop.Click To Tweet

******

I heard someone bash Nicholas Sparks the other day.

They had a host of reasons one of which is they said he shouldn’t have said anything about the leads in The Notebook being ordinary because they weren’t.

I don’t know much about his writing, fact is I saw this movie and aside from the quotes I have seen floating around  it is all I really know about him.

But I do know something else.

Ordinary people can do extraordinary things and that is far more likely to leave an imprint upon people because we relate best to the ordinary because they could be us and we could be them.

Hell, I relate to the quote above myself and maybe that is why I paid attention to the comment when most of the time I might have let it pass through one side of my head to the other.

The kind of love that Sparks is talking about is the kind of thing that leads to an ordinary moment becoming extraordinary.

That indescribable thing that makes just holding hands or listening to someone breathe special is what I am referring to.

If you haven’t ever had it you won’t get it, but if you have you’ll know that sometimes you share a moment where it feels like time has stopped and the two of you are in your own world.

And then it is gone, as fast and as unexpected as it came it leaves.

That is why you need to pay attention.

Fade To Black

Sometimes I wish I could end my post with the proverbial fade to black and some sort of meaningful music.

Something that would make you see or feel something that would stay with you after you finished reading these words and you’d think and wonder about things you don’t always think or wonder about.

There is no cure for blogging.