A Cliffs Notes missive –
I started telling folks what I thought in, oh – about 1997. Before that, I lived in a shell. This page on my site, ATMO bis, is where my words live. I created the category in 2011 with the intention of collecting some of my opinions from older conversations and pasting them up as a blog (HATE that word…). Before too long, I was writing fresh entries based on what I thought now rather than then. I’ve enjoyed that more.
There’s no master plan, except to find 400 or so words by Thursday, give them a title, add a graphic at the page-bottom, and then hit the Publish button. What happens after that is the important part; I link the entry so that folks can read it. I write for myself, but the stories wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t share them.
The themes cover a very narrow range of subjects: me. It’s what I know best. And in the last ten years, the person who I was like this with (…doing that thing with my middle and forefinger where they wrap to connote a bond) has been changing. There’s some skin shedding coupled with me trying to empty the attic to make room for future antics. My heart can hold it all, but my head’s storage bin has reached its limit. Writing has helped me find some clarity, and some room.
For the first time in my life so far, I want something I don’t have. I’m not sure what it is, but I know that despite my good fortunes, all the adventures, and the love I get from those around me, there’s this hole in my gut that something else has to fill. My writing, and then sharing it, are helping me find what’s next. The process is at times humbling, but more than anything, it forces me to think. One corner I’ve turned touches on serendipity; so much of what I am and have are the result of it, and I’ve never had to think much. That’s changing – finally.
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
Happy Thanksgiving. Oh, and thanks for reading here.
