What if I throw in the towel and just write a quickie?
Here are some of my intentions and parameters for my blog, vaguely formed, yes, but somewhere in the back of my mind:
I will not post completely insignificant crap (I know insignificant is relative and that for the most part, it’s all insignificant).
I will not post just because my cat threw up or my kid got an “A” or I had a cold or a broken nose or my car stalled out or there was a storm or my basement flooded or I lost my checkbook or I didn’t sleep enough. Well, something like that. I don’t want my focus to be so narrow that writing becomes a useless habit. However, if I can suss out what is significant and worth my attention around the mundane, if my cat throws up for say, two weeks in a row, or I don’t sleep through the night for the better part of three years, or all of a sudden I will only have sex in the back of a purple-polka-dotted cars, maybe those things are worth a post. If death is inevitable and beauty is all around us, what are the patterns? How does my experience fit into a greater whole?
I will try not to post links to other information without commentary or additional thoughts. I would likely use Facebook for that. But who knows? I reserve the right to do it here.
I am allowed to be a jerk and I am allowed to make mistakes.
The color on the background of my blog’s “dashboard” is supposed to be a deep purple-y grey, but when I got my new Mac, it turned much purpler and much less subtle. I can’t really tell what color it is to you. Close your eyes and picture it to match the photo of the rocks and to not have any hint of rainbows and unicorns. It is a beautiful and solemn color and I am going to try to change it right now.
Sometimes the technology sucks.
I am allowed to use whatever language I need at any given time, including words like shoulder evil fuck cunt cock halo art angel God god terrible horror goddess feminist crap love gorgeous vulva anatomy vein spider asana fat. I do not fear words and I do not fear what is revealed when the flesh is stripped away.
I am but a speck in the eye of eternity, but I feel my life and labors intensely. The days flash before us and are gone. We are not meant to catch them and only by grace do we succeed in doing so.
I am the product of white privilege.
I do believe that to be human is to suffer and that the only way to be free from this bondage is to learn compassion. I am a pilgrim and a stranger.
I like the notion of opposites. One cannot have dark without light. I don’t believe that one should be positive if it is just an opportunity to beat oneself up for not being positive enough. Being positive is the same as being politically correct. It might be the wrong approach because it can lead to lies and self-delusion.
I do not know if I can write about politics or history though I feel passionately about both. I would like to be accurate and I am not sure this is possible. If I write about these things, it really will take me all night.
I do not use emoticons, but I will engage in ironic acts on occasion.
I am tempted to steal ideas and patterns from other blogs I like, but I haven’t yet for fear of boxing myself in and for fear of engaging in the immoral act of stealing.
I think about it, though. So, I have been doing “Music Monday.” What if I do add a photo day, a recipe day, a rant day, a praise day? I would love to do a word day. How many days in the week are there? Perhaps it could be every-other week, or every third Wednesday. I’m too goddamn busy, creative, and original to deal with these fucking restrictions.
Look at me. Sometimes I am beautiful.

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