It never occurred to me that one day someone would slip a knife between my ribs and if it had I never would have thought they would have the nerve to stick around and twist it.
I guess the little boy inside me always figured he’d turn into the hero and somehow save the day. He would spin around, disarm the guy and call the police.
There wasn’t any thought that he would end up face down on the floor wondering who had their knee in his back. The only thing that wouldn’t have surprised him is that he didn’t cry. There were no tears or begging for mercy, just a few grunts and some heavier breathing.
â€œYes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.â€
â€•Â Oscar Wilde,Â The Critic as Artist
Been a very long week and if you asked me why I couldn’t give you the kind of detailed answer you are looking for. Most of it is because I have doing battle with people and things.
Some of them have been worthwhile and some of it meaningful but much of it has made me wonder if it is the kind of exchange of energy that provides a reasonable return on investment.
The fight to keep the blog going has made me think about what would happen if this were my last post. Made me think about many different things.
Made me remember how Ted Williams hit a home run at his last at bat. That is the sort of movie type ending that so many of us want.
It would be awesome to write the kind of post that truly moved people and made them wish it wasn’t ending. It would be magical to write the kind of post that made people feel something and to know the last thing they ever read from me was better than average.
But I don’t know how to make that happen because I don’t know when the end will come. There is no plan to write for a set amount time and then hang up my keyboard.
There is no plan for any sort of farewell tour, there is only the plan to write until I just can’t do it anymore.
â€œYou don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.â€
â€•Â Oscar Wilde
I don’t write as I once did. Don’t know if that is a bad thing or a good thing for that matter, I just know that it is. I think my voice has become well defined and that I hit the mark more often than I miss but I am no different than any other writer-sometimes I wonder.
The traffic here this week is the worst it has been in years. Some of it is attributable to the hosting problems. When the blog won’t load or takes forever it is not unusual for people not to stick around.
Could be that people are bored and that it is time to go find new readers who aren’t familiar with my work. I tell my children to be their own people and to follow their hearts but to know when you have to play the game. Meaning that some times you crank back upon the “personal bliss” and play other games.
You do that because sometimes you are in a position to build new relationships or expand old ones and your willingness to do other things goes a long way.
Sometimes you have to go along to get along.
But when it comes to blogging you have to look at your goals too and if you want to last you need to be sure that having fun is part of it.
If you don’t have fun you won’t last. The last few days haven’t been fun, but I am too stubborn to just hang it up now.