The things I write here are a combination of reminiscences, made-up stories, angry rants, half-baked political theories/complaints, ill-conceived philosophy and expressions of longing.
Sometimes I have an inspiration, and something flows. Often I think I should write something, and I try to force it out, an excercise that doesn’t always work. Most of the time I am aware that I have some readers, and I want to entertain you. Probably that’s because I don’t want to lose you.
There are few enough of you that I can sort of see you all. In some cases I know exactly what you look like, because I’ve seen your picture, but in every case I have an image in my mind, pieced together from your comments here and the things you write on your own blog. I don’t know what I expected when I started this, but I certainly didn’t think it would ever be as personal as it has become. I have actually written posts directly to you, all but calling you by name. I’m sure I have a lot of one-second visitors, next-bloggers who don’t see what they’re looking for, don’t read a word and move on. But I’m just as sure that a small contingent of you check back regularly, read what I write, get it or not, and leave comments to let me know you’ve been watching, and this touches my heart.
I’m not, as some of you might think, a geeky, introverted, antisocial loser. Sure, I spend time with this blog, and more time reading yours, but I also have a job where I am inexplicably well-liked, and real-life friends whom I see socially. I have a wife and a cat, and I take part in household activities. I play guitar and write songs as a hobby.
I tell you these things because I think that I write a lot of downer stuff on this blog, depressed stuff, and I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. I am pretty even-tempered and cheerful most of the time. But a lot of the things that make me feel like writing are the sad things, the injustice, the sense of loss, confusion and fear. In meatspace* when I find something broken, I fix it if I can, work around it if I can’t and worry (and worry, and worry) if I can’t do either.
That worry often comes out in negative blog-posting, because I’ve worn out my real-life friends and family on certain topics. They just won’t listen anymore, God bless ’em.
But here on revision99, when you see some kind of Jonesian bummer coming, you can skim it and bail if you want, or just skip it all together. Please don’t think less of me just because I can’t contain my angst at this imperfect world we’re forced to live in. Take my negative raps with a grain of salt, a spoonful of sugar and a tongue in cheek, and don’t go away mad, or disappointed in me.
As always, my heart sighs with the joy of just knowing you are there.
*meatspace (noun): the space our bodies inhabit, also known as “real life”