cyrcus again. Recently returned from, somewhere. And that somewhere is…
Chain of Lakes loop near Mount Baker, Washington State.
I am sitting on the couch drinking leftover fancy whiskey I bought for my birthday weekend celebration a few weeks ago. I’m listening to the 2021 Darkside album, Spiral. I enjoy it though I don’t expect to have too much company in being a big fan of the album. It’s weird and moody. Just like, well, ahem, nevermind.
In my intro Hello World post I said I’d use this blog for all these productive things like “learning in public.” Perhaps. But why does the idea of that bore me to death?
Maybe we sometimes have things to say that don’t deal directly with productivity and gaining new skills.
I am inspired to write now because I am experiencing a beautiful, yet somber reflective moment.
The formula for this specific reflective moment seems to be this: I have everything in my life perfect, with only one demanding task being asked of me, a project for work, yet I do not do this task. My whiskey is delicious. I only have the best coffee. For breakfast I have perfectly soft boiled eggs with perfectly ripe avocados and my favorite habanero hot sauce. The coffee is strong and flavorful, with steam rising more pronounced in the morning sun beams entering my kitchen.
So why do I not work? It is because I am overflowing with memories and feelings. I sense that most of this flow will not be utilized for anything, it will serve no purpose, and simply disappear forever. That’s fine. We’re not machines who turn inspiration into artistic form without leakage. But the amount that I leak feels quite high. I am the BP of wasted inspiration. It’s leaking all over the place.
I can’t draw. I am not musically inclined. I love to read. So I try to write, to emulate the reading that I love.
But what is this article for?
That is the point! I exclaim, it isn’t for anything!
The inner skeptic replies: Cheeky. But if it isn’t for anything, what’s to say it has any value at all, for a prospective reader for example? And if it has no value for a prospective reader, than is it really any better than inspirational emotion that only exists in your own mind? Is the post worth writing at all?
All I can say is that I hope this post may be a stepping stone to future writing that will both a) quench my thirst for giving my inspiration form and purpose, and b) provide genuine value for readers. Until that future arrives - at least this page exists, whether it is ever read or not. Maybe the wayback machine will pick it up, and someone, somewhere will see it in the distant future, and my inspirational emotion will be conveyed through the writing in a way that someone else appreciates.
You never know.