“Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.”
I sat down tonight to write something. Nothing in particular, just something. But nothing came to me. I thought about writing an ode to this season of “The West Wing,” but I reconsidered. Not because I haven’t been happy with the show, no. On the contrary it’s been really quite phenomenal this season and Jimmy Smits is kicking some serious ass in his role as Congressman Matt Santos. But I’ve already ranted about “The West Wing” recently and felt it redundant.
Someone I’ve known for a long time who only recently found this here blog asked me why I don’t talk about my personal life more. Why I don’t talk about what I’m doing or what I want to do or blah blah yada blah blah. While I love reading about what other people do on their blogs, I rather eat it up in fact, I’ve always felt that if you want to know more about me you need to ask or be with me. It’s cheating for you to just read my blog to get updates on my life. Now, of course saying that I’m hoping those people whose “meme” blogs I read don’t read the above and decide, “Fuck you fuckers, I’m not revealing crap anymore.” At any rate, instead I’ve decided that this here blog, for what it’s worth, will be mostly crazy stories and weird ideas and dumb shit that shifts around inside my head. A creative outlet, sort of, with a bit of self-indulgence thrown in. That’s not to say it’ll never contain personal thoughts, but the focus won’t be on me.
Of course this post is among the more dull things I’ve posted here and there’s nothing worse in life than being dull. Sure, cancer sucks as do a number of other ailments and personality flaws, but dullness is death.
One thing I realized recently was that 2004 was a serious wash for me. Nothing really happened. I didn’t learn anything new. I had a number of personal challenges that took the wind out of my sails and I let them overwhelm me. Some were understandable, such as the decline of my father’s health, but others weren’t so. 2005 has to be different and I’ve already made moves in that direction. It may take a while to pay off, but restarting a once dead engine sometimes takes a few times before it turns over.
To use a boxing metaphor in this time of “Million Dollar Baby” celebration, it’s not how often you fall that counts, but how often you get up back up off the mat. I’m up off the mat and ready to box. Or something akin to that.
