I was astounded when I pulled the page off my Stuff On My Cat calendar this morning and I realized that today marks the second anniversary of this ain’t livin’, which began with a frivolous post about Westport written in the evening hours during my period of unemployment in 2005. When I started this site, I decided to try it for a year and then decide whether or not I wanted to continue, and last year, I made the same decision again, in part because so many interesting people and places were encountered along the way.
A lot of things have happened to me in the past year. I moved to San Francisco, I struck out on my own as a freelance writer, I read a book I’ve been waiting on for a long time, I lost old friends who were dear to me, and I moved back to Fort Bragg to live in a hobbit house.
Sometimes I feel as though I am standing on a street corner shouting and no one is listening. This can be immensely frustrating as a writer, because it causes me to doubt my own abilities, or to wonder if I am utterly boring the numerous people who flit on and off this site every day. I would really like to see more reader involvement, and in the past year I have made a point of making provocative posts in the hopes that people would comment on them. This, alas, does not appear to be the case, and I wonder what it is about you, dear readers, that makes you so shy? It gets rather dull listening to my own voice all the time, you know.
This has been an immensely saddening, frustrating, and also oddly rewarding year.
I spent much of it feeling lost while I searched for something that I needed to come home to find. I have the sense that I made a lot of mistakes in the last year, but other people made their fair share as well. I don’t know where this leaves me, other than left, and I wonder if I have the will to go on anymore. The meaning of life, if I ever knew it, has certainly changed radically for me.