Let's face it. I'm not indefatigable.
The indoor soccer session ended, winter swept in, and I've settled for stretching a lot in the morning and the evening. Even while writing this, I'm taking breaks to elongate quadriceps and hamstrings (oh yes, this is going to be a REALLY interesting blog. he's already talking about his body parts!)
It's funny how the consciousness of failure so frequently holds me back. I wanted to exercise and write regularly, and to have this blog be a public chronicle of both. But once I faltered to be consistent, to come back and blog again became increasingly difficult. The Bambi post was a huge mistake- it was all stuff I'd written about before. Cute material. Extremely familiar. Stuff I did not truly mean or really care about, but I knew I could say it and that people would be willing to smile at me for it. No surprise that from that point I grew more and more distant from believing there was any real point to continuing this blog, from continuing to bring out the fledgling connection I was forging between my experience and my voice.
I imagine that it might stir a little incredulity to read that I feel disconnected from my voice. But it's true. I occasionally find myself (or something I would like to be me) in the host voices and views that I have internalized over the years (just listen to me quote movies!), but for the commanding portion of my existence I've been pretty fuzzy on personal opinions. No, not opinions. I've got LOADS of those.
I mean something that is intensely mine, from my core- not just in appearance to the outside world, but to me. To have a consistent internal narrative that truthfully reflects reality as I experience it inside the bone walls of my head.
To be who I am.
So I'll keep blogging. Maybe it'll help.
Help me, I mean. God help the rest of you.
/existentialism
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