so u want me to blog...

Well, I'm here and I'm blogging. With this unnerving compulsion to write. The strange thing is I have no agenda. No specific something to say. What do I do with this familiar feeling? There are moments when I have listened to it and been purged and birthed beauty in the making. There are other moments - these are more frequent, more controlling, uglier - when I have walked away from that sound of longing. But I will write this time. Sound and touch that linger in the present tense of the mind will flow over the plastic keys. Perhaps to be read, perhaps only to be dusted away by the parent. But it will write itself today...

Strange - that you would want something so badly and yet walk away. Perhaps the reluctance is inherent... an unwillingness to make the effort which I know will surely be exhausting. It is the same sort of indolence that accommodates mediocrity. Mediocrity is convenient. That is the damning thing. Paradox of relationships too, as I've probably said before. Also excellence, in my case, will sometimes demand a reaction that is mindless. Something I am not sure I want to dole out! I like to space out my mindlessness, you see.

Voices on the street, a purposelessness different to mine. Mine, for the last week, is a surfeit of time. That is one of those things I believed I would never have occasion to say... Well, I have. But hang on... Why do I keep returning to me? I know I haven't sorted out all of the threads God wove in... but will I ever? Surely from experience, I know, one's self is the most captivating subject for the speaker and the most cloying and unacceptable for the listeners. Crushed garlic in spoonfuls.

Trouble is it's good for you once in a while to unravel yourself... Too many knots spoil the pattern. But that being said, there are much more magnificent obsessions out there to be found... And nothing, not even yourself, beats the original.