It's been a while. I've received a number of emails and queries checking in to ensure I'm still alive. Yes, I'm still here. Thank you for your concern.
I wish I had an explanation for why I've stopped writing on this blog. But I don't. As was often the case in the past, this time around I had no specific intention to take a break; I just stopped. The urge to share my writing on this blog just disappeared one day and hasn't really returned. I want to blame it on the existential angst I'm so used to, that feeling of absurdity I've been grappling with for the better part of my life, but even that feels like a false and hollow explanation. Truth is, just as I'm not sure what it is that compels me to share my writing, I'm not sure what it is that compels me to stop sharing my writing.
If it makes a difference to you at all (and I'm not sure why it should) I do continue to write. In my journals, in private emails, on scattered bits of paper that can be found strewn about my apartment, the words, ideas and mental meanderings live on. To what end I cannot say. I used to think I wrote for therapy. I used to think I wrote in the hopes of becoming a published author one day. I used to think I wrote because I couldn't not write. But really, I don't know why I write. I just do. To what end do we do anything at all in this life? I surmise that it is because we all need something to pass the time between birth and death. For me, that's as simple as it gets. I write because it's something to do.
So, for the time being, I leave this blog as a testimony to where I've been. Bear in mind that it is a reflection of a journey that is ongoing. Each entry is a snapshot into a moment of time and does not necessarily reflect how I currently see the world. Perhaps one day when the dust settles in my mind just a little bit, I will return here to share with you my travels.
Until we meet again,