I forgot to blog! How did that happen?
Simple, really. Various explanations.
Once upon a time, when I was really quite ill, I didn't go out very much. When I was at home (most of the time) when I was sleeping, I spent a lot of time in front of the PC.
So much of that has changed. I do go out a lot more now. And when I'm in, I'm far more likely to be doing something active. For example, I have recently taken up baking again, something I find intrinsically enjoyable, and not merely through satisfaction with the end result (compare with ironing and washing up).
And yet, when I do go out, there is relatively little to report. There is a limit to the number of original posts that one can write about a cycle ride down to Tooting Common or Brockwell Park. There is a danger that, in order to keep the content original, I am likely to moan about the solipsistic behaviour of self-centred individuals - generally those who fail to keep their mutts or brats under control, or dangerous drivers (either school-run Mums or arsehole twunts in vans) - that maybe occupy five minutes of the trip, rather than:
- sheer exhilaration of going down hill;
- wow I've got some speed up there;
- that flower's lovely;
- woo, the bump bump of careering over tree roots;
- that puddle never dries up whatever the weather;
- really, Jimmy, there is no need to chat up every woman over 70;
- that small child is so cute toddling along - whoops he's fallen;
- do they really expect to catch fish in that stagnant pond?;
- oh, look, the swan's showing off again;
- the coffee here (Brockwell Park) tastes like dishwater and isn't even hot;
- strange how two coffees and an egg and chips here (Tooting Common) costs only 30p more than two coffees in Brockwell Park. And the coffee tastes good, too;
- I'm just experimenting using different functions on the camera - they won't be great photos;
that take up the remaining two hours or so.
And the other reason is Twitter. I remember now why I abandoned twitter after about six months of using it regularly. It does tend to steal one's blogging material.
I suppose there are various ways of looking at that. One is to say: Twitter is pants, and abandon it again. Another is to try and recreate the passing thought that inspires a <141 character muse and turn it into something longer.
The third option is to go with the flow while simultaneously re-examining my modus blogerandi. I am by nature a hoarder and a bit of an archivist. It sort of goes against my grain to have these fleeting pronouncements and even while acknowledging that they are preserved, for now, on some giant server, they are nevertheless transitory.
Yet why should the electronic world be any different from the physical world. For longer than I can remember I have had multiple conversations with numerous people. Rarely, outside of work, have I made a formal record of the conversation. Occasionally I have made a written note for future reference. Sometimes I have made a mental note. Frequently, I have allowed the content to enter my memory for further use. But I would guess that the overwhelming majority of the words I have uttered and the words I have heard are gone for ever.
And not only does that not matter, it is actually a good thing. The relationships matter more than the words. In any relationship, with a lover, a friend, a family member, a casual acquaintance, a whole lot of bullshit is uttered. Many platitudes and empty words. Harsh words and downright disagreement. What she said what he said are totally irrelevant. They are merely tools in how we operate as social animals.
(But I have just discovered something I searched for in vain a month or so ago - a daily dump of my twitterings. The joy for you will be unconfined!)
