OK, so that last entry was depressing. But short. See, you didn't have to be depressed for long! Or maybe it wasn't depressing. I don't know. Something called "Death and dying" must be a downer, right? That's what we assume. That is the meaning we attach to death and dying in this culture. Could we have that wrong, too?
So, just to get back to my human side for a moment, because I like to pretend I'm not human while writing about all these lofty ideas, but I really am ... here are my thoughts about who I would like to have reading this blog. If all my friends and associates are reading it (which they are not), I definitely wouldn't want to know that because it might change what I write about. I might be stopped by the thought, oh, that might offend ... or someone might recognize what I'm writing about, and I don't want them to. Or, just the thought that I don't want my privacy invaded too much. (Too late!)
If nobody reads my blog (except my very faithful followers), I surely don't want to know that! How depressing. You want to make a writer depressed, just let them know that nobody knows or cares what they are writing about. Now that is truly sad. Try blogging about that for a while!
The best thing would be if thousands, or millions, of perfect strangers were reading my blog. And loving it. I know that's not happening, but I can dream, right? I guess brilliant writers are just writing to amuse themselves, and then it's a pleasant surprise when everyone else is equally enthralled. But for me, I always wonder whether the words I record will make a difference in someone else's life. Because if not, why do it? I think I wrote here before that it is enough that it helps me. Well, it's not, not really.
I am home with a sore throat (I would be home anyway, not working today). By the way, Austin has a cold, and Dwaine was not feeling well, but they both insist that they did not give me a sore throat, because they don't have one themselves. I guess I gave it to myself, then.
Being home, I've discovered that we have one, or many, obsessed birds that keep knocking on various windows throughout the house. They are very persistent about it. It sounded like one was intent on breaking into the bathroom earlier. It's actually rather creepy to be alone, then hear somebody knocking at random moments and different places. I am telling myself it is the birds ... or is it "The Birds"? Yeah, Hitchcock knows exactly how I am feeling at this moment. He must have had this experience of lunatic birds knocking their little brains out against windows. What will happen if they actually make it inside the house? No one will even hear my screams! Imagine. They'll kill me, then they will rescue their incarcerated parakeet friend, Scout.
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Totally weird. Because last night I dreamed that birds were trapped on my screened patio. Like hundreds of birds. So I opened the door to let them out and they all flew at me like crazy and were landing all over me and so I was swatting at them and they were landing in the grass but I thought they would get up and fly away. But they were swallow babies, not yet ready to fly, so they all sat on the ground and before I realized it I had stepped on several of them and they were dead. I was angry because I'd had such a good feeling about freeing them in the first place and now they had messed up that feeling :). Inside the patio was a ton of bird sh*t and several birds stuck to the screens - some of them dead. I rescued a mother owl and two babies...trying not to step on the swallow babies. Then I woke up.
ReplyDeletePerhaps we are both picking up on how humanity seems to be at war with nature, as senseless and self-destructive as it is.
ReplyDelete