The Big, Epic Blog Post

You may have noticed, I’ve not written anything in a while. At least, I’ve noticed.

The problem with that is, I start putting pressure on myself. I feel like, when I finally post something new, it has to be big. It has to be grand. It has to be memorable. So it will have been worth the wait, right?

Well, get ready to be disappointed; I got nothing.

I’m coming up blank on what to write about. It’s frustrating as hell.

I don’t really have any updates on my life, of note. My depression has been mostly under control, lately, with the occasional exception. No significant physical changes. I haven’t won any lotteries. Probably because I don’t play any.

I have no insight to offer regarding the news of the day; it still alternately depresses and enrages me. And that takes a toll, as I’m sure you can empathize.

I have, however, found some blogs I really enjoy, because I find them entertaining or thought-provoking, or both. Among them are:

The Written Addiction

Filosofa’s Word

The King’s Necktie

Dare to Know

Teri Carter’s Library

Check ‘em out sometime. I think you’ll enjoy them. Meanwhile, I’ll keep wrestling with this writer’s block thing I got going.

Yawn

 

Hello, my loyal fans.

I know, it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything original on this blog; I’ve just been reblogging posts from other people that I found interesting and wanted to pass along, or directing you to other websites, because I’ve been unable lately to come up with a single thing to write about.

That I thought you would find worth reading, that is.

 

When he was President, Jimmy Carter once famously addressed the American people about what he termed a “crisis of confidence.”

I think that pretty well describes what I’ve been dealing with lately.

Whenever I’ve started to write something, I haven’t got very far before convincing myself that what I was writing was worthless junk, so I just give up.

I don’t want to bore you with any more anti-trumpism; I believe you all know my feelings toward the man by now, and just a cursory glance at the daily headlines can keep you apprised of what he and his gang are up to that day.

Problem is, anything I write these days sounds boring. To me, anyway. Maybe I just have a boring life; I don’t know. Nor do I know how long this malaise will last. Hopefully, I will come out of it soon, and I will produce something worthy of your time.

I know, this was boring, too. Sorry.