I realised it was probably about time I started a blog; writing is one of the things I most enjoy, whether it involves nonsense I've invented (which will be featured, eventually, in some form or another, at The Ecstatic Destruction of the Mythic) or nonsense I just decide I want to spout about other people's creations (music and books, mostly) or even nonsense about things I've done and seen. Meandering musings of little worth, too. Oh, how I love those: they make me feel significant, someone who could be important, as though I have Things to Say. And I really like - given the opportunity - to be read. Especially if the reader can find anything worth reading in anything I've written - even a single sentence. So, basically, most things that I write that aren't fiction or poetry will be written here (updated when the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars and all that fun stuff: stringing words together takes me a while). And the idea of making my words so readily available to whomever might possibly stumble across them is, while an exhilarating one, quite probably the most frightening thing my words will ever face (go easy on them, folks: they're shy, they're timorous, they're easily startled. But hopefully they'll prove resilient, made of stern enough stuff to survive. Maybe you can toughen them up).
Words are an exciting, integral part of my identity (that's a story for another day, though, I think) and so sharing them becomes an important aspect of what I am, too. Words transform, each one a drop in the ocean, capable of grinding down the stones, wearing down the battlements (I just placed the business end of a set of nail clippers against my mouth as I typed that, then grimaced in horror at myself and tossed the clippers, making a shuddering sound as I did so. Asides are an important part of the flow of things: a river, shooting off from that ocean of words? An insidious attack, meant to surround the target, unaware of its impending ensnarement, meant to weaken the foundation, the walls built up against the ocean. Water does a good job of winning). And that's enough of that. For now. Words of wisdom? Words of yawndom? Words of bloated, pompous self-reference? Words too small for their shoes? Words of no consequence? They are themselves; they flip, spin, twist and become whatever their reader sees.
So, this is going to be my home for yelling/speaking calmly/whispering about whatever I want to yell/speak calmly/whisper. A general hue and cry, as it were.
Am I going to say anything new? No.
Am I going to write anything worth reading? It's doubtful.
Am I going to have a good time doing this? Yes.
Enjoy.
Please.
