I want to make something perfectly clear: the selfishness and deceit of someone else didn’t force my hand regarding the termination of my blog. I don’t always lose my mind, every time I lose my man. My God, if that were the case, I’d be Rosemary Kennedy in a lithium colored party dress, standing wall-eyed in someone’s garden on Martha’s Vineyard, playing a tambourine without the metal jingles.
You see, I have to be honest with you–I make horrendous choices in men. I find replications of my father and that turns me into the real Goodbye Girl. In fact, I’m marriage primer. If you want to find the woman of your dreams and get married, date me. Invariably this always happens. I’m a marriage repellent and while this is true, it’s decidedly NOT the reason why I’m stopping the blogging process. No, I stopped blogging, mainly because I grew tired of constantly feeding the beast.
Comedy is easy; but that’s only when it isn’t difficult. I don’t always think people understood my humor and that’s fine. I didn’t always hit a home run, but I never cowered while up at bat. And yes, sometimes I got dark and brooded a bit and sometimes I wrote from what’s left of my heart. Writers should never be one trick ponies. I’m proud of that fact that I could negotiate the creative lines.
While blogging had its merit for me, it got to the point where I no longer cared for the blogosphere that came with it . It had gotten too clickish for me. I am reminded of snooty sorority girls on the University of Texas campus, circa 1977. People hide behind anonymity to argue, to insult….to woo. It’s become something of a meat market for the nefarious and let’s be honest, these wiley tightwads know it’s certainly cheaper than e-Harmony. As a result, it became too predatory for me. So that, coupled with the daily wear and tear on my creativity comprise the reason for my wanting out.
I could blame the Internet, but I won’t. The Internet is an amazing thing. Al Gore should be completely laughing maniacally about his vainglorious creation, but it can also an impious arena. It allows some to be obscured, cloaked in fantasy and that allows to do anything we want; we can pretend to be anything we need to be. Words paint the perfect mosaic and if we’re gullible and vulnerable enough, we get sucked in to to each syllable. . We get conned and believe the horseshit thrown our way because if we’re needy and desperate enough, we’ll find a way to deny it all, by distorting reality. At the very least, we’ll pretend that bullshit is part of the courting process.
Not long ago, I wrote on my birthday post that often, we don’t love wisely. The runs the gamut, too. Husbands, wives, girlfriends, old friends, family…business associates. In our search for OUR needs and OUR wants, we’ve eliminated empathy from the equation. We hurt each other and feel no remorse. Oh yes indeed…we lie, we cheat and we steal. Maybe not in terms of the law, but I assure you, larceny is involved.
Deceit for some is a skein of wool, to be played with at their liesure, but every ball of yarn comes unravelled and loses it’s appeal. That means the ruthless little cat fucker needs to find another one. He gets so bored so easily when someone discovers the chink in his armour. What fun is it then to play when you can no longer pull the wool over someone’s eyes??
I’m not here to preach. I’m imperfect; I’ve hurt people before, but I’ll tell you what, after lessons learned in the past few months, I’ll never do it again. You can’t play chess with someones emotions. People are too fragile these days and once hurt, it’s difficult to recover.
But the strong do just that: they recover and inevtiably they learn that disappointment is an unavoidable fact of life . Heartache while damning, can also be used as an educational tool, IF we allow ourselves to be enlightened enough to view it in that way. I now have an almost Pavlovian response to assholes. I’ve aquired an early warning system of sorts. Discerning this has been lesson to learn.
Color me wiser.
As for ever blogging again, I’m still contemplating that. You can take the blog away from the writer, but a writer still needs an outlet and dare I say, validation, too. So, if I come back, I’ll do so after a break and IF I do, I’ll damn sure blog under an alias. But I’ll let you know when and where I land. If you’ve ever left a comment, you left your e-mail address. At least most of you have left legitimate ones. When the time is right, I’ll send out the mother of all mass mailings.
For the time being though, I’m taking a very healthy step toward self- actualization and perhaps in an oddly distorted way, this blog has helped me do this. Time will tell, but for now, thank you all for your support. Even you assholes. You actually made me a better person, once I realized your damning comments were your manfiestations of your problems; not mine.
In closing, I can only say that every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.
And then I’ll also leave you with this: It’s a horrifying thing to see death coming at the hands of your own creation. This is true of Oedipus and his father; Baron Frankenstein and his monster; and metaphorically speaking, of Laurie Kendrick and her blog.
But I know a decent priest, a shrink and an alchemist.
See you soon.