i am here

 people have their own reasons for doing what they do. for me writing, in whatever form, is part of mental hygiene. i have been journaling forever (i.e. before it was hip) alongside with the more 'artsy' writing that i'm doing. i used to write letters etc, so maybe the blogging came as a replacement to the letters and the long e-mails. yes it was more impersonal because at times i had no idea who i was talking to, but i sort of grew into it. then last year i thought i grew out of it.

then i saw side effects: once i stop writing in one place, i stop writing in the others too. writing just doesn't seem necessary anymore - and that could be ok for anyone else, but i'm finding out it's not ok for me. i have to keep writing regularly, and often, for personal accountancy and for whatever histrionic needs are left in me, and because this is how i manifest myself primarily as a person in this world. 

another thing i thought, and overthought, was that this blog used to serve the purpose of tracking a journey: it was always about moving, moving on, changing, observing, waiting for something more to happen. then i got to a point where i was happy the way it was, and just hoping for nothing to happen to upset that balance.

and of course things are always happening, whether i like it or not, and stagnation is one of them, and it's not pretty, so here i am again at my window, with nothing much to say (when was information the point of this, ever?), just a face clouded in coffee steam, watching and willing you, the semi-strangers out there, to look up and be seen. 

my yard in the morning, early summer