So what is there to write about? I’ve been ignoring my old blog, as do most people, as far as I can see, who write blogs. Posts are second to non-posts in the frequency department. Blogs have been passed up pretty handily by tweets, Facebook status updates, and Tumblr inanity. None of those offers the same kind of long-form approach to a thought that a plain old blog post does, however. And that arguably led to the aforementioned tweetstatustumblr-apalooza we live in now…people wanted to capture the appeal of popular blogs but lacked the chops to put down either quality posts or frequent-enough interesting updates.
So here I am damning myself. I actually have spent the last few days wondering what I could put here. Babyfight has been by blog for going on twelve years now, but I mainly post bullshit on facebook and auto-tweet things from my other blogs. They’re so narrowly focused that the thing they’re about tends to be the main item written about. MMA and cooking are two things I’m working on now, although cooking is falling by the wayside since I’m ordering out all the time.
I spent some time trying to figure out stories from childhood to relate, as I have a stable of go-to tales I bust out in social situations, the wallaby attack, the big wheel ride across carlsbad, the various drug-related stories (it depends on how well I know the people I’m talking to). But none of them made sense to me. I’m kind of in a weird mental loop right now, determined to do something, anything, new, but concerned about losing what I have. What’s the solution? It always seems I should be in the middle of something magnificent, but I assume I’m not, and yet later, when I look back, I was actually doing something that I wish I’d paid more attention to.
So there it is, me staring intently at my own taint as I tumble through space. I’m wondering what the moment will be like, probably right before my death, where I suddenly realize “Shit! I should have done everything!”
