Um. So. Writing here, again, sort of feels like the internet equivalent of trying to get in contact with some old friend you have been meaning to email or call or whatever for days that turn into weeks that turn into months, and of course the longer you put it off the worse it gets, and you start to think to yourself, well, surely too much time has elapsed now, for no good reason other than the fact that inertia is a hard habit to break. And the thing is, at some point during this whole process you find yourself feeling a bit bewildered about why it is so hard sometimes to do the things you actually want to do, and if that's the case, what are the chances that you're ever going to get around to the tougher stuff?
I always wondered where people went when they stopped updating their journals. It turns out, somewhat disappointingly, that maybe there's not much of a mystery at all. They are simply laying in bed too long or getting up too early, listening to the same music and reading the same books and peeling potatoes as potential fries and eating the shortbread in front of the TV. They're doing exactly what you would have expected.
In more current news, Monday was Halloween and I realized a little bit too late that we had somehow managed to not carve a pumpkin.
Halloween used to be so significant in my life. Where has it gone? And if it has infact gone to some other place, might I be able to someday casually bump into it?
If only it were something so tangible.