Never read your own writing and other words upon aging.

I did a little of that the other day. Um Hmmm. Looked back.


Nevertheless, I want to fall back in love with this blog. I have the other ones that see more love and attention. Like so much these days, I'm not giving myself the attention I demand. This is the mental puke blog; the rant blog; the not sharing anything of value and have absolutely no target audience blog. therefor the pure blog.

I could write all day. I have been writing in my head - and that's way fucking different than thinking - but too GD lazy to spit it out. No songs. No cigarettes. No sleep; can't think of anything I need. I want to fall back in love with this.

With the pointless and the pure, with the time without agenda or focus. I mean, I'm proud - fucking proud - that I've learned to focus and all that, but this page a few years ago was a way to get away from some unpleasant realities by turning inward. This page made me discover the voice inmy head that is writing. It got me away from a life in a hole and it made me okay with my sorrow and my shithead nostalgia and my words without pitch.

So I'm nostalgic and contemplating getting a custom url or moving the whole damn thing to a wordpress thing and skipping the CNAME thing. Nope. I did it. Look up. It's the real thing (for now). Use that in your bookmarks. iloveyouinblue.com. No big thing, it beats the shit out of a url that had nothing to do with my identity anymore. I haven't worried about that old thing in a long time. And I think I'm going back to blue. It made more sense.

I'm missing the mark. I want to play a little. Yup. I don't think I'll write anything precise unless I take the time to horse around.

And I'm not looking back.

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