Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
I use selective apathy. Despite people wishing otherwise, not all opinions are worth listening to, not all situations are emergencies, and not all decisions outside your control are worth worrying about.
I also fully support entire days of "I don't care about any of it today," and turning on a really stupid movie.
I agree, there are times when apathy is desired. I would call upon this superpower often when grandchildren are asking for something. There is no other force strong enough to deny those big, sad, eyes.
OneRepublic lead Ryan Tedder had a thing about apathy in his youth... Three songs off their debut album Dreaming Out Loud mention it. He's the last person to ever be accused of apathy, for sure: I think he's the busiest, hardest working person I know - for being in the music industry, anyway.
This reminds me of the thoughts I had two days back while shoveling wet, heavy snow: As I worked with the heavy wet stuff, I found myself grumbling and complaining, but then the laughter and squeals of the children across the road reached my ears. While I complained and struggled with our new snowfall, they reveled and played. I was very tempted to lie down and make a now angle, but I feared I wouldn't be able to get back up.
It was for a while during my early days in WdC but was removed during one of the clean-ups I did to keep within my port limits of the time. Nothing is thrown away, however, and I do sometimes bring things back from the archives.
The last, stubborn adherents to a now-banished and vilified addiction. Pity these pariahs, exiles from society, rejected by all. Huddled together, in their own peculiar society, finding comfort in shared hardship and finding the understanding denied them by those whose addictions are acceptable and featured in memes on Facebook. There's a certain bravery in standing outside the unyielding structure of permissible behavior in a cancel culture.
I see that Cubby is currently stripping wallpaper. A fine pastime in which I’ve done my share of indulging. But it’s the name variations that bear no relationship to the original that bug me. Sure, let us know what you’re doing every minute of the day, but don’t hide who you are.
Yes, I know it’s possible to check on the username but I get confused as to who owns what username. It can look really familiar but highly unlikely that I can link it to the usual given name. So it rarely helps with identifying a person through all these name changes.
You won’t find me changing my name or adding to it every five minutes. And it’s true that I don’t even know how to do it. But I could find out. I could. If I wanted to.
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