Everytime I take an inadvertent Blog Hiatus, I feel the need to make changes when I return.
This is probably the biggest change that I have made thus far.
Dragging my blog out of the shadows of the blogosphere and into the broad daylight of networked blogs attaching it to my Facebook page, which is basically like stapling my drivers License to the cover page.
I have been blogging for almost ten years….over ten years now.
I have been blogging off and on since I had one YOUNG son.
Now I have one son staring puberty in the face, one son contemplating life with two digits in his age, and third son with the Potty looming in his future.
When I Started blogging the world was fundamentally different than it is now.
When I Started blogging some things that I saw, felt and believed are no longer things that I see, feel and believe.
When I Started Blogging I was Grasping with the age of 30, with no thought of what 40 would feel like. Today I am 41 and feverishly preparing for 50.
It has been a ride. A ride I have largely shared with strangers.
With a few clicks, I have exposed myself to relatives, Coworkers, Classmates, and even my Mother.
I never thought I would be here. But here I am.
Out here for the world to see.
Naked and unashamed.
Metaphorically speaking…because my Momma is watching.
The hardest part about blogging is never the first day back.
The hardest part about blogging is the second day back. The second day back is so hard that it can often pre-empt the first day.
What enables a blogger to press forward?
It’s good to see you back again. Yes, I do know how long ago Sept 9th was, because I come by this site everyday. Don’t know what it is that’s challenging you, but please know that you are not alone and there are people that you don’t even know who wish you well and pray for your strength; who feel your absence when you’re MIA. Stay strong in the Lord and in the power of His might, and continue to fight the good fight. I hope to see you here again soon…. – Annette B.
If that doesn’t make you wanna get your ass up and keep grinding, what will? One of the things that motivates any blogger honest enough to say so is Blog comments.
Getting people to go to your Blog is hard enough. Getting them to Go there…and feel compelled to actually comment? It’s like adrenaline in your veins.
I got that comment at 11:02 am. At that very moment, it was without a doubt that I would be right back here today, If only to say Thank you.
I speak for bloggers everywhere when I say that people who comment on blogs are special and wonderful people who are second only to People who pay people living wages to blog things that they are passionate about.
Blog Trolls? Fuck y’all. Seriously. A Hobby would do wonders for you. A few Suggestions from me, gratis
Poisonous Phallic Consumption
Competitive Suicidal Feces Eating
Comment Spammers? Just…stop, please. Stop or join the Trolls in a new hobby.
Many of you are dragging yourselves out of bed and Cursing the weekday gods. Not the kid.
This is the most fabulous Monday I have had since The six Mondays that followed Pittsburgh Steeler Super Bowl Victories.
Actually this is far more fabulous than that, because that wasn’t really about me.
This is all about me.
I am sitting in MY chair.
In MY place.
On MY computer.
On MY schedule.
This may not seem like a big deal to you.
Perhaps, that is because you didn’t feel like you were in the most comfortable form of prison.
No. Not, my marriage. I got better sense and my momma raised me better than to speak all willy nilly on that aspect of my life.
I am talking about the prison of the mind.
The shackles that We labor under…struggle with…and surrender to every day
I spent 90 days Facing the Very demons that befell me in the autumn of 2002.
Sometimes it didn’t seem like I was going to make it.
But I am here. Bruised…Humbled…Renewed…Emboldened.
The last post on this blog was September 9.
Do you know how LONG ago that was?
Let’s just Say Cam Newton, Wade Phillips, and Brett Favre felt a great deal differently about their lives on September 9 than they do on December 13.
I am in the same boat, although I would have to say I am feeling more Newton-ish about my chances in Life than I am feeling Favre-ish.
It has been a long time. I thought many things that I wanted to write in those 94 days.
God is faithful. He preserved me.
Thank God for Second…um….Third…no…Fourth…Shit, what number chance am I on now?
Thank God for mercy.
I thought about going back and inquiring as to just how many times I had abandoned this blog. I decided that might embarrass me so much that I might re-abandon this blog in mid draft.
As someone who has been guilty of this infraction, I know the feeling all too well.
Many times Writer’s block comes while you sit and try to write one thing. It sits on the keyboard and swats away your inspiration like Mutumbo and then waves that long ET-esque finger at you.
Then it’s gone. What remains is the Stench of failure.
The SoF is the nagging suspicion that you are wasting your efforts. Sweating pools of blood that morph into subjects and predicates destined to be read by YOU.
and ONLY you.
Link it up and tweet it up and Market it all you like…No one reads it…So the next time, the burn to write is dampened.
The Stench of Failure has whooshed in and tempered the burn to write.
The Stench of Failure Pervades everything a writer attempts until he/she finds peace with his vocation/passion, in all its solitude and potential futility.
You don’t beat the Stench of Failure until you stop obsessing over BlogStats. The only blogs visisted less than my blog is my blog with no new posts in the past three months.
Calling it writer’s block shifts your focus away from the true culprit.
Blaming Writer’s Block for the work of the Stench of Failure is the equivalent of the FBI harrassing Richard Jewell and letting Eric Rudolf get away.
Stop worrying about page hits and write.
Stop tripping off how many comments you get and write.
Stop whining about how Click whoring Bloggers are ruining the game and WRITE.
And most importantly…
Stop eavesdropping on me when I’m writing blog posts to myself.
Author’s Note: forgive the tardiness, Labor, newborn babies, custodial parenting, stuff like that intruded and I ended up spending more time Living the story than writing about it. My bad. You won’t miss a detail, I promise.
In the aftermath of 9/11, there was enough flux in my life that I could pretend my family life was back to normal. I trudged through The fall of 2001 with my head down, saying very little verbally, but tackling my new found passion of writing. Writing at that time was like the therapy that I had never experienced.
I was participating on an anonymous group blog called Kindred with a bunch of established Bloggers. The rush I felt as a part of that immensely talented collective inspired me to creative heights I have NOT found since. I was BLOGGING with the Best Black Bloggers in the world way back in TWO THOUSAND ONE, SON!
I spent the autumn oblivious to my family, Engaging just enough to keep everyone quiet about the turmoil of the past and to focus on how I was going to survive eighteen years of Loveless marriage while raising my sons. Suffice it to say that it never occured to me that they might NOTICE that mommy and daddy didn’t really like each other all that much. That 3.0 ALREADY could tell that something wasn’t quite right even as he was concentrating on the wonders of Potty Training.
That 3.1 was a momma’s boy was inevitable. That he resembled TFMI was merely coincidence. For someone who spent the last 4 months in the womb of a woman whose husband only occasionally shielded his hopeless outlook on marital bliss and family, it is difficult to imagine that I could have built up a great deal of cool points in utero.
But none of that stopped me. I was a man who only vaguely remembered having a Father in the house. I told ANYONE who would listen to my digital rantings, that i Would NEVER be THAT father. Id Stick in through thick and thin. Wasn’t gonna make it until death did us part, but I would DEFINITELY make Graduation.
Famous Last words.