Starting over. Huh. I’ve started over so many times in my life that I’ve lost count. It seems to be a theme. Too bad we don’t live like the movies and have theme music playing every time we do something. If we did, I think my theme would be something dream-like, because that’s how I feel. I feel like I’m constantly waking up from some weird kind of dream that sometimes makes sense, and sometimes doesn’t. And every time I wake up, I’m starting over.
I have no idea what I want from this blog, and even less of an understanding about why I even want to keep it going. I guess it’s like old shoes that have no more tread and are full of holes. I don’t want to keep them, but I don’t want to toss them out, either, because they’re comfortable and I can still wear them around the house. Besides, it’s always a good idea to have a spare pair of shoes, just in case.
Now that I’ve cleaned everything out of here, I have to figure out what I want to write. Occasionally, I have moments where my thoughts seem unusually deep, and I try to write them down before my train of thought leaves the station without me. But aside from that, well, I guess I’ll find out.