What’d we learn? Lessons of the blue pill.

It’s the last day of the month. It’s the last “30 posts in November” post. And thank the good fucking lord for that. So I don’t have any fascinating final thoughts…I don’t think.

You could watch the quality and focus drop off, certainly once we got to last week, because that’s when the job started. Well, I sure as fuck did. I figure there are about four people who just tilted their head to the right a little, closed their mouths, shrugged and nodded, perhaps looking down as much as 30 degrees.

We ALso learned that the crossover between the internet and meatspace has far too many exposed faces for me to be completely honest. Not that I lie here. I try not to ever and it causes me to hold my tongue a bit more than I’d like. ‘cause there’s some motherfuckers out there that need the truth. Maybe it ain’t my fucking job.

Traditionally the cycle has been for me to create online presences in pairs, one I’d tell people about and another that I wouldn’t.

Inevitably there’d be a little bit of crossover as I succumbed perhaps inevitably to the temptation to tell SOMEone about the other site/twitter handle, whatever.

Then suddenly I’d realize that far too many people in my day to day life knew far too fucking much about what was going on in my head as I’d abdicated as enthusiastically as completely my ability to curate who did/could read what.

Rinse, repeat.

It’s been the cost of processing things externally I suppose.

And I’d love this to be the place where I made some grand pronouncement about what I’m always or never going to do from now on. But none of us would buy that shit for a minute.

Sorry guys, I’d give you a banger of a closer. But my brain went someplace I can’t say out loud.

And that, I suppose is the lesson I learned. Every word I put on this goofy little $6 a month hosted wordpress site, honest as they actually are, is a hundred fewer I’ll write for myself.

When your art becomes your duty it becomes your poison.