Friday, May 10, 2013

I wonder sometimes what makes people want to blog. To portray themselves as someone. With a life or without a life. It doesn't really matter. It has been a while since I wrote anything on my blog. I have thought about my lack of enthusiasm on and off and reasoned with myself. Made excuses even. Too busy. Nothing to say. Why bother. Who cares. Life is shite sometimes. And then theres no room for idle wondering. Anyway. The last year or so has been a time of change. Unsettling. Restless. Isolating. But today the light went on again. Which has me here dithering. I could write about the dismal hole in my heart gouged out by the death of my beloved Larry. But death happens, it is an inevitable part of living. I could write about another of life's inevitabilities. The empty nest. Even as I type that I can feel myself snoring at the thought of it. It happens. I could write about the delights of having the newly retired offering me cups of tea 500 times a day. I could also write about the weather. The choice is endless. There lies the crux. I never was good at making decisions.

4 comments:

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Rise, we've both been MIA for a very long time. I've read back over several of your posts and it feels good to make contact again.

I'm sorry for your loss. My heart, too, is hollowed out by the loss of my Flip, whom I miss every minute of every day. But I decided that I might as well write. Sending warm hugs to you.

Molly said...

Wow! Gobsmacked here at finding a post from Little Blister, famous of late for NOT blogging! Can't make a decision? Happy to nudge you along....Let's start with Larry, a worthy subject. I'll be waiting!

Susan Kane said...

Glad the light went on again. The brain needs a break from pondering painful thoughts. Glad that you have found your pen. I look forward to coming back to visit here.

Pauline said...

Well, writing here again was a decision I approve of. There's never anything to write about and there's always something to write about. It isn't the subject that counts - it's satisfying that strange yearning to write things down. It's that or turn the cupboards inside out trying to find just what it is that will satisfy your hunger. Writing is less fattening.