Because I Don’t Write

Sometime after the beginning of last month, the urge to write—or more specifically, the urge to write here—disappeared.

I wish I could tell you where it went. After all, this was the space I set up (after doing it at two other blogs here at WordPress) where I was going to write what I wanted, when I wanted. No more being pigeonholed about sports. More posts about what moves me, what make me laugh, even what makes me think.

And after August 2, 2015, nothing. No spark of inspiration, no witty asides, no posts about the Orioles, DeflateGate, the upcoming (well-now started) football season, not posts about songs I like or songs I have heard that I feel need what little exposure I can give them. Not even any posts in relation to the daily prompts that show up in my inbox every day.

I wish I could tell you why that has happened. The first thing I would say is that I haven’t made time for it. That much is true. I’ve spent the better part of the past month getting to know Windows 10—and when I say getting to know, I mean installing it three different times. Two times just resetting and one time, in a fit of pique only I can muster, blowing up the computer to start fresh. Yes, removing all my files and apps and settings and just starting with a clean copy of Windows 10. Of course, I forgot that a lot of those files I wanted to keep….but thankfully none of my music was lost. I’ve been saving that in the cloud.

And it’s not like I haven’t done things to write about. People write on blogs about things they’ve done, seen, read and feel all the time. I do that too…except the writing part.

It’s because I don’t write. And I call myself a blogger! Ha ha!

I even had a whole week off from the day job not that long ago. Surely I could’ve found something to inspire me, to draw me in front of the old LED screen and keyboard. It’s not like I wasn’t in front of them-as I read blog post after blog post from most of the blogs I follow, including many from this particular one. Even found time to make comments on several other bloggers’ posts. But I never posted a single thing.

There was the rise and rise of one Donald J. Trump who as the months go by seems to know no one he can’t insult, belittle and trash on his way to the Republican nomination. If he’s what’s going to make America great again, America must be in really bad shape. We really need a bigoted, narcissistic, xenophobe in the White House? Ugh. There was the fall and swoon of another Baltimore Oriole season; a phenomenon that hasn’t seen these parts in a few years. Guess we fans were starting to get spoiled with those three consecutive winning seasons. The NFL preseason game I attended-surely I could have taken some pictures, and commented on the game itself. Nope. And music, both old and new and sometimes both that never fails to move me. Not one post.

Because I don’t write.

What I have noticed is that I do write, but the best ideas and bits of ideas I ever have either are forgotten by the time I get to writing or end up as little posts or comments on that social network behemoth known as Facebook. Or there are notes to things I save in OneNote or Pocket. Or maybe it’s nothing more than this week’s grocery list. But not here, at the space created by me, to write anything I want, whenever the mood strikes.

Even my daughter started a blog for her start up flower shop, and it’s here on WordPress! I am ashamed to say that she even got a post up, while I sat on the sidelines and did not write. I did like her post and follow the blog though. And for the longest time the posting scorecard read daughter 1, so-called blogger 0.

Because I don’t write.

You know what, though…almost seven hundred words later, I have written something.

4 Replies to “Because I Don’t Write”

  1. Great post! See – even writing about not writing is still, well, writing. Haven’t we all been there. Its as if the more you want to write some witty, erudite piece, the more it eludes you. I guess all you can do is grab that muse when it comes!

    Liked by 1 person

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