Happy Birthday to Julienne!

Onto the post...

I was fishing around for carrots in my pot roast juices, the carrots bobbing around like flashes of golden koi swimming in murky water, when I thought about my fellow bloggers. Those fellows that I don't personally know except through their sordid ramblings on their public blogs. I missed them and in a way they were my muses, my inspiration that helped me make sense of things that I saw throughout the week, the day, the hours of my life.

So I started on the least familiar of the few of my once favored bloggers. Still had it. I was in awe how he made his daily life seem funny and new and the breadth in which he wrote was amazing. Short, succint and all-emcompassing ...enviable. Then I moved to the second on my list, he, on the other hand, wrote posts that were novelas, but still engrossing and thought-provoking. Then the third on my list? One of my favorites. I read and found that he no longer found use in blogging, that he had lost the spark that caused him to write. Perhaps he was happy? I wish him luck in his travels.

It was like finding someone whom you were close with in some forgotten past had died. And you grapple with the idea that you will no longer have something to look forward to because although you were no longer close friends you still could take comfort in knowing that they were around. Perhaps you'd stumble into one anothers' path somewhere down the line, and now they have ceased and yet you still continue, no lucky chance meetings.

It was very upsetting really. All this imagined turmoil in my life is caused by little things, that add up and make up the drama that keeps me in check, and keeps me writing.

Did y'all notice that my blogs have sucked ass the past few times that I wrote? Can you guess why? I gave you the answer two paragraphs down. I was happy with life, with work, with everything, and now, my blogging abilities have picked up, why? Take a gander.

Me.