Erm…

So, what to write about?

I like the idea of having a blog. It makes me feel like I’m “out there”. I have mentioned before that being a proper, published writer is a dream of mine, so having an opportunity to publish my proper writing is a notion I agree with. Even when it’s self-published through an outlet available to anyone with a computer and a phone line and lost in a crowd of 27 billion other “published writings”. I can still dig it, baby. Someone in, I don’t know, Cambodia could switch on his/her computer and feasibly read my stuff, and that’s rather comforting.

But therein, as a balding fellow once wrote, lies the rub…

I’m not writing anything.

I’m genuinely stuck. Transfixed. Petrified. The last meaningful (well, you be the judge) post on this blog is from July. And it was about ticks! Ticks! I needed my bloody cat for inspiration! Actually, I needed blood-sucking parasites found on my cat’s neck for inspiration. Ahem.

When I started this, it’s mandate was primarily to focus on the normal, bog-standard existence of its humble narrator and somehow make it good. I had little choice on the matter. I’m not mentally ill (as far as I know), I don’t have an exciting job, I’m not especially knowledgeable on anything and I’m not a member of any social, ethnic or ideological minority. I’m completely uninteresting. So, as a fellow who enjoys challenges, the prospect of trying to write an interesting blog based on such mundane subject-matter was an enticing one.

The achievement of which is still but a hazy mirage lost in the sweeping, expansive desert of my own incompetence.

I had hoped that wit, invention, hilarity, anything would gush forth from within but alas, so far I have been distinctly barren. This wasn’t meant to be diary in any shape or form, more a place where I could just speak my brains. Unfortunately, student life hasn’t helped with my blogging on little bit. Yep, I’m proportioning the bamlem here. Beyond the endless rota of essays slowly killing me, I’m writing (and editing) for the university paper, reading at least three new books a week (not by choice) and nothing, nothing is going to infringe upon my drinking time. That doesn’t leave much opportunity (or motivation) to write a blog. By the time I have finished that week’s assignments, I’m totally spent, especially on the mental front. Not only that, but the current schedule leaves scant opportunity to do anything interesting anyway. I had intended this blog to include reviews for films, television, books, music, whatever tickles my fancy; but I haven’t seen a new film since August, I don’t have my TV with me, the only books I am able to read these days are course-assigned (reviewing a novel I have just dissected in a 4,000-word essay? Fuck right off) and my radio’s broken, so most new music just passes me by. I am unable to properly comment on current events since they also pass me by (I could the internet for most of those things, but that will infringe upon my facebook and porn time. There’s always a sacrfice). When I say I’m living in my own little bubble, I’m not exaggerating. It’s a bubble shaped like a university campus.

Anyway, the point of all this is that I’m going to be better from now on. I promise. All being well, there will be a slight let-up in my university life, creating a gap that will be better-served by decent blogging. This metaphorical gap should also allow my brain to function in some capacity. I have forgotten what it’s like to have an imagination, so when it hopefully returns I won’t be so stuck for inspiration any more.

Hopefully.

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