Still going

Still, regrettably, I am more occupied with other stuff than I would like to be or than is compatible with feeding my blog. I certainly haven't forgotten about coming back to the post I started to write about things and about why I think it's going to continue to be good for me, and indeed continue to get better, to work in a war memorial, which I hope surprises you as much as it surprises me, given that, you know, I'm not what anyone could accurately describe as a fan of war, all things considered.

So this is just me saying hello to my blog. Hello, Blog. I don't know why you exist, but I do know a great deal about how you work and all your ways.  For many years I've looked with a mixture of admiration and resentment at how you've made me feel that I was always a lot better in the past, at storytelling, at writing and at generally not being uninterruptedly shite at life. So it's funny to read archived posts from exactly six months ago, at the start of 2017 when I cranked you up again, Blog, and be remembering that I wrote that stuff feeling it was terrifically stilted, lame and generally inferior to the salad days of 2006-2008, while at the same time noticing that while I thought this as I did that writing, with six months' distance it really all seems fine -- it's NOW that all I can produce is an inferior and clapped-out trickle of nonsense.

Something that hasn't changed one bit from early 2017 is this:

Oh yes, still can't keep calm because still I'm arounded by disgusting idiot, just like the person who made this graphic (and who is probably a disgusting idiot too, let's face it.) So the peerless self-absorption of what I'm currently writing is an effect of the awfulness I would have to look upon if I ever dragged my gaze away from my own navel.

Well, I shall close now and go do some sewing because there is an intimidating meeting on tomorrow and a new dress will make me feel presentable and making it will take my mind off all the things that I am so very tired of thinking about.