Off again, semi-off again, maybe on again.... in These titles mean nothing.

That’s the way it goes folks. You never can be sure of what life offers.

If this place can keep going, I will be very happy. I like it here.

If it falls apart, I guess I can handle that too.

I did something today that I hadn’t done since the middle of June. I went to 750words and wrote 750 plus a few words. I was curious if they would still let me in. Turned out they remembered me and I had fortunately used the password that I can remember.

Turns out in a way writing for no purpose, no editor, no prospective reader, is a freeing enterprise. You just write what you want. Use dirty words. Tell family secrets. More importantly tell your own secrets. Sometimes it’s hard to get on a roll and keep moving the fingers on the keys. Sometimes you can’t type fast enough.

I went back and read some old stuff. It does not have an easy calendar for finding old entries but it does have a search function. You can type in ‘harness’ or ‘banana’ or ‘church’, and it pulls up all entries with those words. It can take you randomly back into the past. I didn’t find anything every striking. I found a few things I wouldn’t read out loud. I found places and times I would not go back to. I found good things too.

Anyway. I see people have been exploring other journal sites. Most were considering OD their failsafe. Some were reluctant. Those who wanted to be there are there already. Trying to play the two-timing game of what goes here and what goes there. If this place stays open, and I sincerely hope it does, then that game will go on.

On-line journaling is not as hot a thing as it once was. To be honest a lot of us aren’t as hot as we once were - even once. We have less to say. We have less curiosity about each other. We could just give this up - at least for a while - and then maybe we would come back. And maybe wouldn’t.

I remember thinking early on that maybe I could have a blog - a freestanding place of my own to write. I never thought I could capture very many readers on my own. Maybe I could have. It would have been a different process. I set one up early in the OD days but I found I am not good at cross-posting. Even if it’s practical to have your words in more than one place to keep them safe, I found I just didn’t want to. A blog would have been public and while I was used to writing in public and I would have bought an ad in the local paper directing readers to my on line persona, I would have been constrained in what I wrote. It might have worked. It might have failed too, sinking all my words, thoughts, my self with it. Life and the internet have no guarantees.

I wrote more of a public diary in OD. I wanted a lot of readers. I gave my name and address to outsiders, friends, strangers, relatives - and let them read. I didn’t do that here. In fact even members only got to be too big a risk and I wrote more than a few friends only entries. And of course I stayed away for various lengths of time. I did not feel obligated to write. I did not have a deadline. I didn’t have an audience. I wrapped my ego in a paper napkin and stuffed it in the back of a cupboard.

This is all about me. It always is. My goal has always been to write something interesting that someone else would like to read. I think I used to be better at it. I tried harder. I illustrated my words with pictures that I thought were interesting. That was then. Now I can’t take pictures. I can’t go through the rigamarole it takes to do it, to remember it. Even if I miss my pictures too.

My life has changed. I am not who I used to be. I care and I don’t care.

I apologize.