I don’t like to write

If you are regular of this intermittent blog, you have to notice by now, I don’t seem to like to write.  I did a lot better when I had no “followers”.  I was not intimidated by them — though they remain rather quiet and unobtrusive, I realise that their existence is “inhibiting” me like stage fright.  Recently I killed one of my blogs — I got a lot of hits, lots of likes and found that I was writing for performance reasons i.e. to keep the crowd happy.  Eventually the blog belong to them and not me and I grew to hate it.  Finally putting it out my misery I killed it last week.  Haven’t heard a world from anyone about this.  I am not sure if I am surprised or upset.  Perhaps I am resigned.

I say all this because recently I began another blog.  How could this be you ask?  You hate to write and you opened another blog?  Yes on Livejournal.com  and to be honest I’m not sure why.I think I did it because Snag-it only posts to LiveJournal automatically.  Everything else I have to email and I am forgetting this email address…obviously this is very Freudian.  So now I am writing via ScribeFire and that seems to be helping…at least here.  I didn’t like the interface to WordPress…excuses excuses…and the email thing wasn’t working primarily because my mailer never seemed to remember the address either and I of course felt that this was the Hand of God telling me not to write.  Yes it’s amazing how the Hand of God only shows up negatively for me…and you wonder why I call this after the 118 Psalm?  It’s because I need that constant reminder that God loves me. God cares and gee…last week my car was repossessed.  Oh my gosh, I told you.

I took it well.  The repossessors were amazed how well I was taking it.  It was easy in a way, the car was not here but in the garage so I did not watch it be towed off into the horizon. Still for days afterward I was sick filled with lots of nightmares and genuinely distressed.  My car, my beloved SUV, was repossessed. How did this happen.  A bad series of events that I find hard to discuss.The whole is horrendous and gruesome like a madman gone wild in a china shop.  I bought that car brand new, with my inheritance, from my mother and now like so much of what I have…it is gone.

Here’s a picture from it’s early days…when it was yar.

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