I can't sleep. In general, I am unable to close my eyes until my neighborhood noises sound almost like an afternoon in the suburbs and my passion for finding the "truth" behind Scientology, polygamy and anything else wickedly cultish is quelled. Tonight would have been much of the same, listening to cars pass by while reading up on modern day Illuminati [thanks, Paulina], but for some reason, I opted to time travel to 2005. Yep, I re-read the first few posts of this blog. Immediate thoughts:
- I can't believe how old this blog is [a subtle nod to my own passing of time, here is where you say, "you look so great"]
- I can't believe how many different writing personalities have graced its virtual pages [a heartfelt "who are you now, Sybil" would be completely appropriate].
For me, writing is a lot of fun, whether blog, book or article. When else can I freestyle in puns and clichès ad infinitum? And where else can I get a constant heart break as I search for voice, message or a plain Jane raison d'etre? Reading my old blog posts is like catching up with ex and not-so-ex boyfriends -- nostalgic, queasy and sometimes a WTF-was-I-thinking? shake of the head. These posts are far better than finding a 1990s diary mainly because my thoughts are gut-wrenching and publically documented. Again, the WTF-was-I-thinking? shake of the head.
Perspective, it's all about perspective.
My latest favorite wrinkle-in-time book: A Visit from the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan