*Flourishes cape*
Willikers! An actual blog, Chiroptera-Guy! Sort of.
My blogger’s leal has been hideously absent over the past few months—SO HIDEOUS. Of course, I have spent much time executing what writers seem to do best-- staring at a blank sheet of paper or blinking cursor whilst restively cursing gods, devils, society, the neighbors (Carlyle, I’m looking at you, fella), and eventually themselves before sinking into a dolorous morass of self-loathing and surrender. It becomes easy to convince oneself that one is insensate, numb—useless.
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| Look at this asshole. It's like it's tapping its foot at your inaction. |
Oh, how horrible it is—especially when one recognizes that this (acquired apathy aside) can be an ideal artistic and/or literary state. Why, it is full of emotion, expression, aching, and—this one is important—hatred. Hatred for oneself, hatred for one’s roommate and his/her sonorous bong, hatred for those ridiculous whorls of paint on the ceiling above your couch; it truly does not matter which direction the dial spins in. Hate is ugly, but damn, it is potent.
I suppose what I’m saying is that writer’s block is—at least in this case—a poor excuse, and I assure that I will not allow such a creature come between us again. Hugs.
Ruminations aside, my return is accompanied by a state of somewhat alarming sleeplessness; thus, the muse of charm, humor and inanity is fueled, and sticky honey-soaked joy can be merrily suckled upon by all. I’m not certain what that last part means, but it is undoubtedly better to not ponder it in any great depth.
Yes.
Summer. It has been both eventful and listless; I suppose this is to say that there are some wonderful topics to regale here in Mister Half Face’s dusty corner, whilst others are boring/un-amusing and thus not so bloggable (I made a word: time for cake!). Such future entries are currently in the works, and shall be delivered in a timely fashion. Until then, my dear darlings, I extend a flouncy bow, flourish my cape once more, and leave you with the scent of promises, wood glue, and one spoiler: cigarettes.
