Really, now really. I’m a busy man. I got lots on my plate, metaphorically speaking. Mountains of mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans and jelly rolls. I got people in my life, just like you do. I got issues and dreams, and paranoia about where my life is heading, if it’s indeed heading anywhere. Why did I start this blog? Because I’m a tease, baby. I got the goods. I got the skills. What I ain’t got, quite truthfully, is the motivation. Now and then, I’ll come around just long enough to turn you on. Blindfold you and tease your hungry lips. With a strawberry. With a strawberry Starbust — all waxy and hard on the surface, but juicy and chewy on the inside. Then I’ll leave you craving.
It has never been about showing you how much I have. It’s all about showing you how much I’m wasting. If you get right down to it.
Here’s the REAL deal: I don’t know what this particular blog is supposed to be. All the best blogs are about something. Or about somebody. All I’m doing here, it seems, is messing around. It’s all I’ve ever done, and I used to think of it as giving myself a certain freedom. But at some point, you have to call it what it is: aimless. As aimless as my own life, honestly. And the only person I’m teasing is myself. I should have more passion for this. I should have more to show for it. How come I don’t?
I’ve nearly hit upon a solution, maybe. In case you haven’t discovered yet, I’ve got another blog going on here. It’s called Bluebird Street. Gently guide your cursor over to the right, and you’ll find it. It’s a so-called “music” blog. My herky-jerky attempt at one, anyway. But that’s only what it is on the surface. I do love music and I thought I might enjoy writing about it, sharing my thoughts and ideas on it with folks on the interweb. But …
Let’s be real here. On this side, you’ve got MUSIC. On the other side, you’ve got little old aimless me, delivering a new entry about as often as an unemployed automobile worker delivers mortgage payments. I’m never going to put together a true music blog, at least not anytime soon. What I’ve learned, is that I’m sort of writing my own biography over there — but using the guise of a music blog to do it. That’s cool with me, really. It gives my other blog something to be about, and some sort of resolution to work for. And I’m finding ways to confront and reconcile my past with who I am now. It’s mildly therapeutic, actually.
Most importantly, it gives me something to write about while I continue to grasp for the meaning of THIS blog. I get a lot more hits here than I do at Bluebird Street, but the other blog deserves the readers much more. This particular site (“where insomnia and inspiration intersect”) has had about 200 hits since my last entry, over a month ago. Sure, those aren’t Perez Hilton numbers, but it’s enough to make me wince at how undeserving I’ve been, and at opportunities I’ve allowed to slip by.
Every now and then, here, I’ll drop in an old entry, just to keep things moving along. This might bum out three or four readers who’ve followed me for a while. I understand that. So I’ll try to present the older writings in a fresh way, and I’ll and I’ll even include the actual (approximate) date of when I originally wrote the entry. Heck. If you scroll down a bit, you’ll find an entry entitled, “Walk With Me.” I posted it a few months ago to give this new blog a little bump. I actually wrote it two years earlier, in October of 2005.
None of this will make “Mr. Last Light” any less aimless than it’s been so far, but if you’re one of those new readers whose been coming by here lately, and wishing I’d write more, it’ll more than tide you over in the spaces between shiny new entries. Like this one.
I hope I’ve covered enough ground for today. Until next time ….
If only you could love me as much as I love myself.
