I was in such a big hurry to redo my site and start blogging that, content-wise, I sort of threw everything up at once (or I just threw up). Tonight I sat back and read what I had written. I was disappointed. I am extremely hyper-critical of myself and hyper-analytical about my own thoughts which makes me very self centered which is exactly why I should be a writer or an artist in the first place. This looping overactive mindset that I have creates a perpetual writer’s block. I have, what I feel, are all these creative ideas and thoughts but when I execute them either musically or in written text, they come out like bad teenage poetry.
This block has grown older with me. It matures as I do. It’s as if it’s as big as me. My first thought after reviewing my blog was to give up but goddamn it, I’m 41 fucking years old. I’m so tired of my own self imposed limitations. I don’t care if nobody reads my blog. This is all an exercise for me. I want to become a better writer so..I’m writing. I’m kind of trying to work on the music thing again as well.
Talk Talk (an 80’s band) had a song called, “Life’s What You Make It”. Ain’t that the truth. I’m only 41 years old. I could still have another 40 great years. I have decided that I’m going to age like computer programs do. I’m not 41. I’m 40.1 which entitles me to be 40 up to version 40.9.
Perhaps I shall be reading this years down the road and appreciate it as if I were looking at a picture of me taking my first steps.