My last post was January 4, 2018. If today is February 28, 2019, I haven’t written a thing on this site in almost fourteen months. Ironically, the last thing to go up was a post called “The Death of Singledadventures” and it wound up happening.
Why the very long hiatus? 2018 was very stressful. I needed to cut back on my output and do some self inventory. I guess the first place to start is with “The Death of Singledadventures.” I wrote about being in a relationship which would connote that to some extent, I wasn’t single anymore. Nobody read it because I didn’t even renew my site’s domain; and I’m okay with that…things ended a few weeks after I made my Irish exit.
So even if you haven’t read it, I’m going to be honest with you all and myself about it: it was penned in the midst of a long and exhausting fight that wound up being the beginning of the end. While I believed its content, to do so just wasn’t me. I’m not one to compromise myself and my creativity to conform to appease whomever. I tried to give it a read; but I felt unsettled and couldn’t complete it.
The rest of 2018 came with lots of trials, tribulations, and the bullshit. Nonetheless, I’m a firm believer in relinquishing regrets to the universe and the game of life’s way of charging me-and us all-in exchange for life experience. It be like that sometimes.
Life had its demands that came first. I worked a job I wasn’t necessarily fond of and it took a lot out of me. My days were twenty hours long. There is a finite amount of good decisions we make a day; and I felt as if I needed to conserve whichever ones I had between the hours of 4 and 12am.
However, just because I haven’t done anything for this outlet, I have been writing. I’ve said on this site over the years, I have asked-or it is assumed-this outlet is catharsis for what I’ve been through and rectifying things. My answer was always no. How could I crank out hundreds of thousands of words over the years and it not do anything for my emotional well being? I’m good with words is the answer. Maybe on a surface level, it didn’t do anything for my emotions other than serving my ego (note: there is absolutely nothing wrong with ego. Most of what we do has this effect.).
Nonetheless, the writing I’ve done outside of here has definitely been cathartic. I’ve revisited a lot of experiences I’d long forgotten about, learned a lot about myself, and somehow, I found the root of a lot of shit that put several aspects of my life into a nuanced context that is very important. Said works are two books in which I can assure you; one of them will definitely be released sometime this year.
Everyone’s older. I started this at 27 years old; I’m now 33. The little 18 month old that held my hand in the site’s header just turned eight a couple of weeks ago. My nephew is in seventh grade, across the street from 13 years old, and is almost my height. So there’s plenty to catch you all up on. I just needed a little time to figure out what to say about it, how to say it, and a new voice to do it all from.
I’m going to make an effort to post something twice a week. The plan is to also record and upload them for listening purposes to. So once again, “Read it Because I Wrote It.”