it's weird that i suddenly felt embarassed or ashamed of doing this for the last ten years, and wanted to stop, and felt like it was going to ruin my life if i continued. in a way it's an artists struggle. as i walked home tonight after seeing 5 minutes of poetry being read at the open mic at amnesia, i considered writing, and why i'd stopped, and i thought about justin's meltdown. is it just being 29, being 30, needing to be less self absorbed and make something that is more external, more of a service or a project?
or, is it realizing that you cannot connect with others through introspection alone, that you cannot expect others to meet you where you are every single time, to understand where that place is, and be offended when they can't find the way, and be hurt when they don't like it if they do get there? i have definitely abandoned this idea for something else yet to be determined, and it feels lonely right now knowing the way i wanted it to be won't work anymore, but it would be lonelier to keep trying to force it.

maybe it's just that, the end of the 20s, saturns return, the transition from self knowledge to something more communal.

sure, people do "blog" in their 30s, 40s, whatever. and i'm sorry to be pretentious and haughty, but that is never what this was. it just wasn't. this isn't "what i had for lunch" and i'd be desperately offended if anyone thought it was. it was always, even through recent years of careful watering down, my art. the art of self divulging. the discomfort of saying what you really felt and letting other people digest it and react to it. i approached it with that much meaning.

this isn't some kind of goodbye, i'm just thinking. and i'm going to go have a bath now.