Monday, December 14, 2009


Why do I continue to write here?

Every so often, I feel as if I should shut down this operation. Stuck in the luft, as it were. I slog through it though. I don't give up. I labor and pour love into it like a mother to her child. And then it picks up again!

Then school or work intrudes and off I go, leaving my child to daycare.


Perhaps because in my relatively short time on this planet, I've made a bad habit of dropping projects. I give up easily. If it were compiled into a list, the amount of paper used would be enough to fill a twenty page short story. I just don't finish things well.

There's the saxophone I made in Second Life, which was the closest project to ever reach completion. And even that's half finished. A bassoon died in infancy. Numerous vehicles.

How about some of the stories on this blog? I never did make any more 'Great Evil' posts. The church of Nunchuck fell into obscurity and now only gets the occasional snide mention. I have about three posts which I have never finished and published in my backlogs. And probably will not see the light of day. Ever.

My alts are scattered about SL, left for dead. My blogs litter the internet, left to fester in their own juices. Granted, most of those were trash. Bad. Trust me, I'm very embarrassed by most of them. So they rust away in silence. And hey, if we count real life writings, we can add more to the fire!

Yes, I am scatterbrained. Forgetful. Flakey, is the best word perhaps.

But not here. No. Here I make my stand. Here, I will post until I die. Or until my hands fall off. But until then, I force myself to, at least once a month, sit down and write something, anything, just to let all seven of my readers be assured that I am indeed alive.

Sometimes writing for this blog becomes an exercise in sheer force of will. Sometimes it becomes natural and fun and I find there aren't enough hours in the day to write all that I want. But, by Nunchuck's Golden Femur, I'll write something.

And that's my incoherent reason for continuing.

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