Have I ever mentioned that I used to be Mormon? It probably explains a lot. Or not. Any way, Mormons are divinely counseled to journal. To journal extensively, but only in a good way. Mormons are supposed to write in ways that will inspire and encourage their posterity. How fake will that writing be?! The constraints would be overwhelming.
But how constrained are the majority of on-line journals? I mean, isn't there the pressure to be constantly witty, entertaining, meaningful and relevant? I mean, who would want to open up and read a blog in which the blogger is having a bad day in an unfunny way? If the writer cannot express her depression in a clever, amusing vein, does this expression deserve blog space? Does it rate? Is it -- bottom line -- blogable?
Fuck blogable. What I'm trying to say is that I'm in the mezzo land between depression and anger. I'm too down to reach for any wit. I don't care to be interesting. (Gawd, what a burden it is to be interesting!) I have a dumb little life with no discernable historical significance. Sometimes I'm just sick of everything. Sometimes I know my head will explode if I get one more "Things aren't that bad and could be worse" lectures. Sometimes self-pity suits me just fine, and if I can't state that in the most unentertaining way I know in my blog, than where's the freaking point in blogging at all?
That's about it for tonight.