Resurrection?

Lately I have found myself wanting to write. Just the usual nonsense of my life these days. Stories about getting buzzed by a hummingbird, jumping two foot nine on my horse or how chicken thighs are so delicious and simple to cook. I might even rant about my problems with Bear. That sort of nonsense.

As well as the other stuff.

Like thinking it won't be long before my dad has been dead longer than I knew him.
Or those strange nightmares I have where I am lost on a train or trapped at the top of an impossibly high bridge or lost in the bowels of an old haunted building.

But then I want to write about things simply to document the moment. The purest form of the weblog. For example, I would write how when I saw The Killers on Sept. 4th, I lost my mind with absolute joy when they played Read My Mind and This Is Your Life. And how I'm pretty sure I was in musical ecstacy when they got around to All These Things I Have Done.

Or how second hand smoke pretty much ruined a weekend away at Las Vegas for me and how I realize that makes me I giant puss but I don't care because cigarette smoke in nasty and makes me want to kill people.

But then I might use the daily rambling to detail the evils of a run-on sentence. Who knows.

Whatever the reason.


I think I might be back.