I don't really know why I'm back here. And I'm certainly confused as to why I keep paying a monthly fee to retain this domain name. Maybe it's because if I let go, then I let go of my one attempt at keeping a forum for "writing" (and the practice thereof) open. It's because I'm afraid to admit that I don't want to be doing this and hence, admitting, that I've failed. That's okay--the time I let this go, hopefully, something bigger and better will have come my way and I can comfortably say ce la vie to the Fupafighter. But for now, she stays, and I'm going to keep promising not to neglect her. These promises will spatter way like little raindrops off water-resistant coating.
I noticed that my last post, over two years ago now, was titled 30 Years Ago. That's kind of ironic, because I just turned 30 last month and have felt a lot of, oh, let's call them "issues," with this new age bracket. There hasn't been anything concrete, really, but just the mundane freak-out that suddenly my twenties, my douche-baggery and alcohol-fueled twenties, have suddenly slipped away. I'm glad to see them go, really, nothing good came out of my twenties. But that's the problem I face--a blank slate ahead of me and no solid foundation to continue building upon. The funny stories are embarrassing. The good nights out were centered around boozing. I know, I'm no different than anyone, but why couldn't I lodge my head at least a few inches out of my ass at like 27? Why am I 30 and one month and staring straight at my colon?
Well, here's my first attempt and something different. Older. Responsible. Aware. Me (oh yes, of course, it's still all about me, did I not make that clear from the get-go?). Maybe it'll be another two years before I come back. I hope not, I hope I don't have to start my post talking about how I'm 32 and feel like I let 30 slip through my fingers. So here we go. I'm giving myself a fighting, writing, chance...
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