Another One Bites The Dust...At Least For Now

I used to find this blog therapeutic and as an outlet for the screaming voice inside my head. I would write effortlessly, sometimes without fail, and definitely without hesitation. It seems right now it is a struggle to any of those things and that I am completely at a loss for what to say.

I think about what I would write, here, at times when most inconvenient, like sitting on board an airplane without my PC, or in the glimpse of a magazine advertisement about the place I just moved from. I think of crafting words neatly together--how they could fill the page of an otherwise diminishing blog. Words that articulate the way the wind feels on my face, while sitting on top of a hill in a cemetery in West Virginia (ewww) how I wish I could describe to you exactly what that moment was like. How I wish that all the moments I have had you could understand or sit here with me to enjoy. I think of how I would tell you the stories along the way, writing them down here like I once did...but can't seem to do anymore.

I keep thinking about what exactly it is that I would say. What I'd tell you. I just don't seem to be able to tell you anymore.

The words are hard to form now. The sentences more laborious than ever. Ironically, my inspiration at an all time high, the "ups" perhaps even higher. Yet life derails me daily, I cry a lot, too. But I seem to have found myself a little further down this mysterious ride - and I welcome the open road it has me on. I'm too busy to dwell on the words and the paragraphs and the implied accusations or meanings that leave you guessing how relevant they really are - or whom they are relevant for. I am also resentful. I want to allow you into my world, but I wish for once I had an outlet to look back into yours. The one-sidedness of this blog thing has grown tiresome for me. I do not need it now like I once did. I once needed to exhault to you who I am, without reciprocity. Today, I wish you had allowed me to know you better. Not all of you. But some, some who read daily. I need to know the conversation flows both ways. It's pretty easy, really, I'm tired of giving and getting nothing in return.

I've never been a gardener. I don't know how to make things grow, or how to keep beautiful flowers in bloom. I'm lucky if I can just get them to survive. This blog is a garden, and it's bounty has withered. I can't nurture this blog the way it needs to be nurtured, or cultivate it's content. I feel like the more I come to terms with who I am, or what I am, the less I can say, here, which wasn't the case before. My own sense of self-censorship I suppose. My own inability to give as freely of myself as I once did. My own cynicism, my own guardedness, my own pain, my own mistakes, my own heart. It is all censored now. Mostly, because I am still so far from where I need to be.

So I'm not sure how much more I can do this. Even though my desire for a creative outlet remains strong, I'm not sure how much more I can say about myself or how much I can put myself out there, or how much longer you and I can continue the one way conversation. Maybe it's time for me to move on. To try something new. I don't know. I need a break, I need to un-chain myself from the only form of commitment I have been able to keep for the last two and a half years. I may be back. I may not be. I might walk away only to find I need this more than I know. But right now, I don't know.

For right now, all I can say is...


Au-revoir et à bientôt mes amis.