Another one? Really?

“You attend the funeral, you bid the dead farewell. You grieve. Then you continue with your life. And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest, and you will weep. But this will happen less and less as time goes on. She is dead. You are alive. So live.”

― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections 

My name is Daver, and I have a blogging problem.

(Hi, Daver)

All of my Livejournals weren't enough. Nor was that failed foray into Myspace, ugh, talk about blog goggles. The Deadjournal, that's now living up to its clever name. And Facebook, fucking Facebook, a drunken accident now old enough to move from diapers to the potty. Although Blogger, even the frozen-in-carbonite accounts for movie and beer reviews, well those encourage me to watch movies and drink more. That came out wrong.

I collect blogs like some people collect pets, at moments of severe individual stress. Sudden unemployment? Fire up a travel blog while the severance is good. Best friend drops off the radar? Start a private blog with no security and email her the address. Rude relationship awakening? Recuperate by talking about everything but. Now, these are just examples of what MIGHT precipitate such a thing. I don't want to bore anyone with drama this soon.

You do what you gotta do to work out the tension, and there's damned worse ways to do it. For me, it's writing. I've tried talking it out, but there's one recurring problem with that method - the speaker. 

 Let's say that you have an idea, and you want to see it out of your head in front of your friends. You want to be proud of that idea. But when you try to share it, to say it, your excitement gets in the way. Your verbage gets blown to hell because you're thinking it faster than you can speak, and your tongue starts tripping all over. Or somebody interrupts and leaves you ignored and forgotten. And that's why public speaking is so very difficult.

But here, online? The only interruption is if the Interwebs break down. An idea may be refined of the human dross, shined up and put on the shelf ready for the public consumption. An idea may live, here. An idea is fucking unstoppable here.

Yes, and an idea is also bulletrpoof, I read V for Vendetta too. These are not big ideas, though, hardly revolutionary enough to justify ripping off Alan Moore. I strongly doubt my words will ever rank with that level of talent or influence.

No, this is just my own little ego trip. Where I can stand on a digital soap box and yell till you notice I've got worthwhile ideas and stories to tell. A man's gotta write, or else go stark bonkers. Anything that comes to mind, anything of interest to me. But the fun part? Will be making it of interest to YOU.

That's life. Time to live.