Cage has a wonderful quote attributed to him: "I have nothing to say and I'm saying it." It is remarkable how he has such a unique (postmodern?) view about things. The traditional (conservative?) view holds that that which is not worthy of being said should not.
Unfortunately I find my blog at a difficult crossroads of sorts...I am running out of time to post and when I do, I don't have anything to post about. Fortunately, this is not a blog about sports or games or art -- it's a blog about me. It is strange to see the ways in which I have changed (and not changed) over the years (you could call this a poorly-kept diary; you would not be wrong). Five years...
It seems that I have reached the end of my (creative?) limits, however. It is now almost April, and I have not posted since February; I have not posted anything of substance since...August of 2013? That long ago? That's half a year. I have nothing to say, and I know not whether I should continue to "say it" or whether I should cease and be quiet.
Musa, mihi causas memora...
I suppose that is a simplification; I have plenty of things to say, just not necessarily things I wish to post online or make public.
The human psyche is a wonderful and vast space, wonderful to describe and easy to get lost in.
I have nothing to say...
...I suppose that is not entirely true. Over the last five years, I have transitioned from being loud to being quiet. There's not true change here, I suppose. I have always been introverted, but I have gone from wanting attention to avoiding it (I shudder to recall all the posts that I deleted during the Great Purge of ATWC...why I put them up in the first place I don't know).
I suppose there is one change. I have become increasingly bitter as I have aged -- ah, no, bitter is not the right word. Mature, perhaps. I have become increasingly aware of the reality around us, and I know not whether to be heartened or discouraged by it.
It is saddening(?) to look back at some of the older posts and read over what I thought then. Truly, a different person was sitting at the computer back in 2008 or 2009 than the person sitting here now in 2014. Oh, how the times have changed!
What a fascinating line [from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act II Scene I]. Oberon reminisces about something in the past, and Puck has this beautiful response: I remember. There is such weight in it -- what a lovely response. An element of age, wisdom, and beauty, but more than that. There is a heavy, dark side to it -- yes, I was there, but no, that which once was cannot be any more. I remember.
Looking back over this blog (and I haven't forgotten it -- almost every day I remember this blog, wondering if I have the time or the content to post -- I don't, a painful reminder) has made me remember. It has made me realize that I had nothing to say when I posted back then -- I certainly thought I did!-- but I said it anyway. Now that I realize I have nothing to say, I don't know whether to continue or to cease.
I am confident that I am either far too old to be a post-modernist or far too young.
I have nothing to say and I'm saying it.
What existential bravery!
And how time conquers us all.
Musa, mihi causas memora...