I am supposed to be making a paper. Naturally, I am blogging.

1. Sometimes I wonder why people go to great lengths engaged in these (figurative) social dances when one (or both) could just plainly put forward the proposition and consequently get together or move on.  But then I remember love isn't a business deal and ironically, I'm being too pragmatic to be realistic.


2. I sort of miss having as much to say as I did when I was a little younger, but now I find that such long things were written more out of vanity than insight.  This, for example, is starting to feel self-indulgent.

Whatever anchor tethered me to sanity seems to be loose.

I always maintained that it was because I like too many things that no one "got" me.  It's like my blabbering is the figurative drill to the head to relieve the intercranial pressure caused by my wanting to talk about too many things much more often than normal social contact would permit.  Hopefully, starting to blog again would help with that.  Otherwise it's just more blackmail material.

Just like what the therapist told House in S06E03

Maybe the only thing worse than doing it would be not doing it.


So hello again, blogging world.  I implore you to welcome me back with semi-open arms.