It’s been a while since I’ve done this! Blogging regularly, that is. I think what it is, is that I really only blog when I’m lonely. I’m not ashamed to admit that—the majority of America is lonely, and probably a good chunk of the global population too. It’s natural. So the skimpy cumulative word count from this past year must mean, if nothing else, that I haven’t been quite as lonesome. That I’ve made a close friend or two. So goes the logic. One could make such a statement and one would probably be right. As much as I enjoy writing, the preference will always be to have that close confidante, that one person who swallows up that loneliness and spits it out like a watermelon seed.
What does it mean that I’ve started writing again? There’s really no need to read too much into it. Even with its melancholy implications, I’ve always enjoyed my mostly anonymous blog audience. Thank you, whoever you are, for grazing these words. You’ll forgive me, though, if I’m out of practice. I don’t quite remember how to do it, but I’m assuming that it never leaves you—like riding a bicycle (not that I was ever terribly good at that). And yes, okay, it means that I’m a little bit lonely. A lonely American. A lonely blogger. (You can laugh at that.)