Let’s just call this what it is. It’s low spot. If you’ve joined us right in the middle then I’ll politely request you subscribe and give 1000 Days till after the first of the year to get yanked out of your feed reader for bad behavior. If you’ve been here all along then you know it’s been better so it will likely get better again.
Maybe this season is a little too much for me to expect to really be at my writing best and I should give over to the occasional bout of lame.
You’ve heard me say it in posts before. It’s the time. I don’t make it. Worse I donate it to less worthy causes like work and making breakfast for the kids. Or warm-up surfing.
I’m also developing an itchy little Halo3 part of my brain that needs attention. I’ve never let it scratch writing time, but I give it other times that push out writing time. The demons of consumption compel me more effectively than the angels of creation.
On the subject of itches there’s a whole masturbatory quality to these 1000 days that I am not always able to look past. If only a quarter of the previous hundred entries are goodish then maybe only a handful of those are worth cultivating. When the hell am I going to have the time for that if I barely have the time for this? So the effort in terms of ideas or seeds to be grown is throw away. Thus far I can only quantify that I’ve written every day. Everything else is speculation. Speculation on subjective material anyhow.
In less than a fortnight everyone starts talking resolutions. I suspect I ought to target 1000 Days for at least one.
Word count: 291