September 25, 1690. The first newspaper in North America was born. Still-born. Publick Occurrences Both Forreign and Domestick lasted one day. :) It would have been 323 years old today. I don't feel that old. This digital usurper was started in 2002. I do feel 11 years older. When will this end? I don't know. I get tired of the writing sometimes. Writing has always used up some energy. I used to write only long stuff that would take me a half-day to a day. I then wouldn't write for a time. Then a few years ago I began writing short stuff that didn't use up much energy and didn't take up so much time. I began writing daily. It's guerrilla writing. I don't know if I could do 12 hours of straight writing now. I didn't do that often, but I did do it. One weekend day at Carmen's house, just a couple of years ago, I remember the post, I sat at her dining room table from 8 to 8 or 9 to 9. At the end my frigging back hurt and my head felt like it had nothing but cotton in it. I was consumed that day. I can remember feeling the fire in my gut. Maybe I could do it if I got consumed by a subject again. I don't know though. I wrote something recently, in the last week. I remember it took me a couple of hours one morning. Satisfied with it, I posted it, forgot about it, went back to work and a few hours later I thought, "Why are you dragging today, man?" Had some coffee or whatever, would have eaten lunch, then was still dragging in the afternoon. The writing just took it out of me.
It's obsessive-compulsive but I enjoy it. I enjoy the guerrilla writing and I enjoy the long stuff. I have something like "a body of work" built up in the last 11 years. I've written about my life here, my son and daughter, my wives and girlfriends, death. Life. There's a bit of a record, if nothing else, of some of what I have been doing, thinking, what I have been interested in in the last 11 years. But it's Public Occurrences that are written about here, not, for the most part, private occurrences; this has not been a diary or a reality show. It's mostly been about Big Stuff. Stuff going on in the world. So, there is something else, there's not "nothing else" besides one guy's life going on here. Some other people enjoy this too, there are some readers. Sometimes I write something that I just know, (in the way you can know without really knowing) is going to make some people laugh or at least smile. I really know virtually no one who reads what I write. The members of the blog, I have met two of them, have exchanged just a couple of emails with two others. That's it! But I know the others and I know some of the 160 or so who stop by here daily. Sometimes I feel there's almost a mind-meld going on. I know something might tickle you or I think my outrages may provoke you to outrage or thought or just tickle you more at what sets me off. Something. There's something else. There is interaction albeit with a small, smallsmallsmall part of the world here, and it's about the world. And there are connections, personal connections. You really know me though through Public Occurrences and some of you keep coming back. And that is frigging great. I love you guys! Boo-hoo-hoo. Arright, enough of this sentimental stuff. Back to guerrilla attacks.
I finished that post at 11:48 pm on Sunday, Sept. 23 and it took about two hours.
It's obsessive-compulsive but I enjoy it. I enjoy the guerrilla writing and I enjoy the long stuff. I have something like "a body of work" built up in the last 11 years. I've written about my life here, my son and daughter, my wives and girlfriends, death. Life. There's a bit of a record, if nothing else, of some of what I have been doing, thinking, what I have been interested in in the last 11 years. But it's Public Occurrences that are written about here, not, for the most part, private occurrences; this has not been a diary or a reality show. It's mostly been about Big Stuff. Stuff going on in the world. So, there is something else, there's not "nothing else" besides one guy's life going on here. Some other people enjoy this too, there are some readers. Sometimes I write something that I just know, (in the way you can know without really knowing) is going to make some people laugh or at least smile. I really know virtually no one who reads what I write. The members of the blog, I have met two of them, have exchanged just a couple of emails with two others. That's it! But I know the others and I know some of the 160 or so who stop by here daily. Sometimes I feel there's almost a mind-meld going on. I know something might tickle you or I think my outrages may provoke you to outrage or thought or just tickle you more at what sets me off. Something. There's something else. There is interaction albeit with a small, smallsmallsmall part of the world here, and it's about the world. And there are connections, personal connections. You really know me though through Public Occurrences and some of you keep coming back. And that is frigging great. I love you guys! Boo-hoo-hoo. Arright, enough of this sentimental stuff. Back to guerrilla attacks.
I finished that post at 11:48 pm on Sunday, Sept. 23 and it took about two hours.
