far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Monday, December 27, 2004

It could argued that of late I've been abusing the [this entry in progress] tags sometimes seen at the end of this page's entries, notations that generally indicate, er, an entry in progress. It's a useful, fairly elastic term, 'in progress,' an expression that could likely be applied to just about everything in this earthly life, at least up until the usually fatal points of death and disintegration. Could also be that everything remains in progress post d&d, on planes that transcend the three-dimensional. Could be, but let's not wander off in that direction right now. I'm just not up for that kind of intellectual masturbation rigor at this moment.

It hasn't been intentional abuse. I've simply been overtaken by life in various ways during the last, er... (pauses to count... runs out of fingers, pulls off socks, rapidly runs out of toes... goes to flat across hall, hammers on door to see if further extremities can be rounded up there, but neighbor is either out or lying doggo) ...well, a while now. There's been a lot going on, all kinds of things, much of it positive in that I'm alive in the middle of it all, all my senses functioning, my enjoyment of life generally intact, my little existence packed with adventures and more blessings than I could count (given the limited number of body parts at my disposal).

I'm involved in a lot of heavy thinking about this life of mine, feeling a strong urge to make some serious changes. One or two shifts in direction have already commenced, others may follow -- time will tell. Among the subjects on the table is this journal and what I've done with it up to now. For all the writing posted here during the last nearly 3-1/2 years, the product is often highly selective -- I don't simply pull a psychological cork and allow blather re: all levels of my existence to come pouring out. On the contrary, some fairly important areas remain completely private. I'm wondering if I want to continue that.

The irony: in earlier years of this life, I was far more prone to sharing just about anything about me and my history that came to mind. In some ways, that was a method of using what I had -- me, what I'd experienced -- as artistic fodder. In other aspects, it was a manner of simply giving myself away too easily, indicating a belief that I needed to be ready to do whatever was necessary to make an impression. Kind of a sad, desperate conviction that my simple self -- sans great torrents of entertaining info and exaggerated behaviors -- would be nowhere near sufficient to attract interest.

Man, has that changed.

And that right there, that change -- a simple, compact word that, in this case, covers an extensive part of my personal map -- is an example of a major part of my story that I'm not currently prepared to dig into here.

Maybe with time. Or maybe not. We'll see.

There is one story I could get into, I suppose. A fairly juicy story, now that I think about it, concerning an intense six-month relationship I had with a woman, a wild half-year that just about

[this entry in progress]

rws 4:58 PM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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runswithscissors would like to thank everyone who's ever lived for everything they've ever done.



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