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Unp4st: The too-late sequel no one wanted.

May 3, 2015

Hello, person.

Yes, you. Person who didn’t un-follow my blog when I stopped posting 3 years ago. Hi. Welcome back. It’s nice to see you.

I’m back because I can’t shake the feeling that I’m dumber than I was three years ago. I know a lot of people brush off “book learning”, but honestly it’s underrated. The idea that book learning stays in books is a myth. Maybe it doesn’t transfer directly, but at the very least learning things makes you a better learner. The ability to acquire new skill quickly is always useful, and it’s a talent I’m quickly losing.

I’m back because as much as I like to think otherwise, I need an audience. Even an imaginary one. I need that audience so I have someone to write to, because otherwise I can’t pretend I’m not talking to myself. Once I have someone to write for, I have to read things that make me think, so I have new ideas to write about. I need to read so that my brain doesn’t turn into pillowy drunken mush, and I need to not be pillowy drunken mush for… reasons. I’m not sure why. I’d probably be better at it.

Intellectual pretensions aside, this blog is a carefully edited diary. It’s a chance to step back and look at my life in the third person. This has a remarkable balancing effect on the psyche. You know all those times when you can’t work out if it’s you, or everyone else that’s crazy? A normal person gets locked into social combat, and moves past the right/wrong dilemma into politicking. “Was I right” turns into “was I justifiable”. It’s very American. In contrast, people like me will, to use the kings English, internalize the fuck out of it and get depressed.

I used to write it out, which isn’t to say I wrote about what concerned me. I just wrote until I was tired. Like letting a two-year old play itself out before nap time. Except instead of a two-year old it was my brain, and instead of nap time it was any sleep at all, ever. I don’t know why I stopped writing. I stopped sleeping too. It took me two years to connect the two, because.

After writing comes editing. The first, and most important, step to editing my own work is to delete everything that makes me sound like a whiny asshole. This is typically 25-100% of a rough draft. Than I get back to that “am I right?” question. Now it’s in the present tense, on the page in front of me, available for revision. I mill it over, and usually find that my grand conclusion is somewhere between “I was wrong” and “I’m confused”. But, every now and then there’s a different scenario. Sometimes the big conclusion is actually a conclusion.

That might have been a conclusion, but I think this one falls under “I’m confused.”

So, yeah. Hi.

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