I Don’t Have To

Blog, that is. I don’t have to blog. There is no requirement to fulfill.

Nowhere in my contract does it say that I have to write anything. Weeks or months or years can pass between words. That’s just how I am. That’s just what I do.

I’m currently looking at just how much time I need—or want—to spend on this computer, creating my internet wuffies. This is something I’ve looked at time and time again, in some varying degree, every six months since I started posting thing on the Internet in 1995. Each time in the past 15 or so years, I’ve come back with some varying degree of need for continuing an online existence.

This month was my lowest posting output since 2003, when I was deployed. It wasn’t that I stopped writing, you just couldn’t see it. I have a daily journal filled with so much wit and marvel that your human brains just couldn’t take it all in. It stays there, in my MacJournal file, waiting for somebody to read off my cold, dead hard drive. Oddly enough, even though I was writing back then, in a war zone, I wasn’t writing here.

That’s okay. I don’t have to.