Since my daily blog-posting streak reached 99 days, the WordPress Notification bell has been reminding me daily that I am still streaking. Today is day 125. That, of course, is really no big whoop. Back in 2015 I managed at least one post every single day of the year. Celebrating writing every day is kinda like celebrating breathing every day. I should be grateful for such a sustained life-maintaining function, but that is precisely what it is.
I would be dead by now If I could not write every day.
Of course, there are days when I am sick and don’t type.. There are days full of travel and doctor’s office appointments and general business that keep me from posting some days. But the writing voice in my head keeps on dictating jokes, observations, questions, and all manner of other things poetical worthy of noting… and writing down somewhere if possible.
My brain goes berserk if I cannot make connections between things. It gets weary from the thought of too many golden ideas being crowded out of my head by new thoughts, spilling out of my ears before being recorded, and evaporating into the ever-present ether of forgetfulness.
I write because I have to. It is as simple as that. Even though it makes me metaphorically naked before the entire world, all of my innermost private things eventually revealed. if I did not do it, I would simply no longer exist. The sentence would simply stop in the middle and…