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It’s tough writing about stuff when you don’t have access to the facts. I like to pepper the stuff I write about with some facts. The garden I use to gather said facts is the internet, and nowadays, I am dialing up from my secret underground lair in the woods. The lair isn’t mine and the people I live with would not call their place a lair, but as I am like an unwelcome rodent who scurries from the light and is frozen in my tracks by sudden loud sounds, and because I have fashioned a den in the basement of someone else’s home with scraps of materials found down there, I call my place a lair. I am fortunate to have the place and to have access to a dial-up account, but the priviledge to dial-up is restricted to any time that the people there don’t need access to a phone, which is when they are asleep, or away.
I like to pound together a nice blog during the day, while I am not able to work at a job that isn’t available, and then I phone it in while my benefactors are asleep. Though I have spent most of my already long life working to master communication, however, obviously, not for profit, I have only just started blogging. I have no idea what blogging is, and yet, I think I’m doing it.
When I write, I don’t put too much effort in controlling the facts I use, the strength, the taste, the smell, the shame of having just used that, because nowadays, the medium I use is the internet, and we all know the internet is eighty percent porn. In fact, and I use the word loosely, most of that which is not porn is pure fiction, and I mean that, very much. When I failed numerous times, in the past, to write, I always had fast and ready access to the internet and that meant access to facts. But since only a tiny percentage of all the information in the entire internet is fact, any contribution I might have made to the pool of truth would never have amounted to anything more than an infinitely small point. And since I have accepted that truth for myself, it seems the writer’s block that has always been on my shoulders has been lifted. I think that will be the high road for me to take as the alternative may be that not having access to my precious facts is actually the push that squeezes my gland of creativity and lubes my channel of literary proliferation, which then leads to the ejaculation of words that will line the minds of my readers with the precious seeds of miscellany that will, with luck and love merge with thoughts and create a new idea.
Well, I hope that was good for you. I’m a guy so It’s always good for me. I wish I wouldn’t fumble awkwardly along the way I do, and I wish I could go longer than I do. Maybe if we keeping doing this, I’ll get better at it and you’ll be better satisfied. Let’s keep the lines of communication open and see what happens.
Call me.
