There is a line in that old Outkast song, “Rosa Parks“, that has long been echoing in my mind since 1998.
Said baby boy you only funky as your last cut
You focus on the past your ass’ll be a has what
Damn straight, André.
Every time I take a break from blogging, the moments of silence drag on longer than I intend them to because I always make the mistake of looking behind me and feeling upstaged by what I’ve written before. Your own worst critic is the hardest act to follow.
Well, I’m back at it again — at least for a little while. The impetus to write perpetually drags me forward, regardless of whether I’m ready or willing to pretend that I have something new to say. Maybe the secret to successful art is being able to disguise the fact that you’re repeating yourself. Or maybe the secret is having the courage to defy the near-certain inevitability that you and your work will one day be forgotten. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe it’s something else instead that just hasn’t occurred to me yet.
All I know is, even though most days these days I feel too tired to write, there’s a compulsion inside of me that will never allow me to quit writing. It’s a giant pain in the ass, to tell you the truth — it’s something akin to a feverish, sickening addiction. It’s too late now to turn my back on the habit.
I guess it’s time for me to get back to it, then.
About fucking time. I thought I’d have to start another writing challenge to read any new work from you. Then I thought killing myself would just be less painful.
Way to go kz! I expect nothing less from the great and powerful kz. Please fill these empty webpages with your thoughts. Look forward to the next one!