I'm really bored. Can you tell? I mean, it isn't as if this is my third blog post in under an hour. Obviously, I have so much more I can be doing with my time. Clearly.
The thing is, with that first blog post a little while ago, I realized how much I missed blogging. Even if no one reads it. Even if this is one of the most vain acts a person can perform. Even if my writing is sub-par and confusing and lacking in style. (Or -- is this my style, and therefore, my writing is plumb full of style?)
Truthfully, this is probably my seventh, or tenth, or fifteen blog. I wish I had a list of all the LiveJournals, Xangas, and other URLs I have mowed through over the years. They're surprisingly hard to track down, though perhaps I should be thankful for such a difficulty. I probably don't want all that prose lined up in easy access for all the world -- or, at least, those few of you unfortuante enough to stumble across this most recent blog -- to see, and criticize, and giggle at. Because all those years ago -- beginning around eighth grade -- I didn't really have much by way of an opinion, and I certainly didn't lead an exciting life. Even now, seven or so years later, my life is quite dull (which you've probably already figured out by now). All I do is read, and hang out with my family and friends, and think about things. Not much by way of action.
I'm just rambling now. I guess all I wanted to say was that I'm glad I'm blogging again, and I hope I can keep up with it. At the very least, this blog has a focus: my adventures in the world of writing and literature. I can handle that -- can you?
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