I put the self into self-involved

Posted: May 30, 2012 in My Life
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

If you’re wondering why I’m skulking it’s probably because I don’t want anyone to eavesdrop on our conversation. You see *looks furtively over shoulder* my company (i.e. the people who pay me money so I can afford to buy bacon sandwiches) have recently started monitoring our internet usage. In other words they’re stalking me. I would say it’s a lot like George Orwell’s novel 1984 except I haven’t read it. But on the plus side I have read Twilight.

Needless to say this has put the skids on my blogging antics. I’m a one legged man and they’ve taken away my crutch. Now I limp from one day to the next like a ship marooned in listless waters. That might be overstating the status quo but if there’s melodrama to be had, I’m certainly not going to say no to seconds.

Ironically enough though this unforeseen hiatus has triggered a renaissance in my writing. A match has been lit, the letters are being burned into my mind, and I’m getting high on the smoke of creativity. As you can see from that last ineloquent hodgepodge I’ve got an itch and I’m trying to scratch it with my keyboard.

There’s a lot to be said for blogging. For starters it rhymes with snogging. But more importantly it can be insidiously addictive. It even gets to a stage where you feel obligated to do a post every day even though the only people who read your blog are a seeing eye dog called Randall and a florist from Cape Town named Daffodil Dave. Needless to say this state of affairs is destined to end with tears and a tub of ice-cream.

In my case, I started to beat myself up about the fact that I couldn’t come up with sparkling and erudite material on a daily basis. I was worried that all my best writing was behind me and all that lay before me was a barren landscape littered with the corpses of clichés being picked clean by plagiaristic vultures. I was still writing but the words were merely whispers on a page.

Then there was silence. No grandiose gesture. No horse riding into the sunset. No long lingering goodbye as my last breath catches in my throat. In the depths of a manic depressive state I would wonder what life would be like without blogging. Would it be like a Coca-cola light version of reality? Would it be like Rice Krispies without the snap, crackle, and pop?

The truth is it’s me minus the words. My imagination is still painting the canvas but I’m the only one admiring the abstract art. That of course isn’t the whole truth. It’s the official statement issued to the press, the radio friendly version without the expletives. A part of me has also been lying dormant like a seedling anticipating the summer rains that never come. Writing is my guilty pleasure. A sin tattooed on my back that can’t be scrubbed away with a loofah.

I haven’t given up blogging. I’m behind the wheel, looking through the windscreen at my future, and occasionally checking the rear-view mirror as my words sputter out the exhaust pipe and dissipate into the blogosphere.

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Comments
  1. paul says:

    Our work allows internet access before and after work which is great. They even open the firewall to allow us access to FB! Keep blogging and get the words out even if it is one click of the keyboard at a time

    • innocent1 says:

      Thank you. To be honest I can’t complain about my workplace too much after all they do buy us free lunch every Friday. Needless to say today is happy day 🙂

  2. I admire your writing…what a nice piece on being self-involved without giving the air to offend a reader.

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