Five weeks...

FIVE WEEKS! I've been gone five weeks.

I am tormented by this absence, but not because I’ve neglected my hoards of devoted readers.

My pity is only for myself, for this is not my first offense.

When my life is going smoothly, I get bored. I look for new ways to entertain myself, seeking passion and inspiration in the most abstract of pastimes. I poke and prod through endless whims and wants, and when I find something truly amusing, I immerse myself completely in its pursuit. I spare no expense and profess to the world that I have found my calling. I convince myself it’s what I have wanted to do all along. I am truly shocked when my enthusiasm is not reciprocated and scoff when my friends and family suggest its a passing phase.
But time after time they have been proven correct. When the real world gets busy again, or a new interest arises, I leave my last obsession by the wayside. Sometimes there is no reason for the abandonment, I simply tire of its merits, and crave the simplicity and peace of my once loathed monotonous existence. Whatever the reason, expensive equipment and half finished projects get cast aside, left like trash in the gutter to be swept away with the wind and rain, and never loved again.

Despite all previous failures to find my niche, my quest continued and led me to blogging. This time I was convinced and had sound proof to back my claims. Its the first hobby I have found that shows measurable results without having to wait too long or exert much physical energy. What most appeals is the instant gratification that comes when you hit ‘post’.
Not like gardening, where you toil for weeks only to lose the crop to pests. Or forget to water it.
And certainly not like the pursuit of Zen. My competitive streak ensured any attempt at deep meditation was continuously punctuated with thoughts on my progress compared to the other participants, and whether the master thought I had the most ‘natural talent’ of the group. Destined to fail at that one, but surely not at blogging.

For blogging is truly therapeutic.
To spill out words with no thought to plot, or limitations on content. The freedom to begin with just a thought, and no direction or goal.
From the moment of conception I am amazed. The thought becomes a sentence, and once on paper that sentence takes on a life of its own. The rhythmic flow of the letters appearing one by one draws me in, curious to see which words they will form. The outside world becomes a distant memory. The ink flows into paragraphs and pages until at last the scrape of the pen stops, and I awake from my trance.
Parts of myself previously unmet stare back at me, exposed and perfect in their raw state. The words are a reflection of my being at that very moment, tangible proof of my existence. I am left void of all thought, free from all burdens, but more of myself than before. Exuding sinful pride at my magnificent creation, and loving the wickedness.

But its not over. There is more work to be done. The ink must evolve if it is to become a blog. I must type.
As I pound at the keys the excitement builds. I challenge my fingers to find the keys faster and faster. A race between my hands and my eyes, but I am always the winner and the prize is glorious.
I can now begin the intricate dance of editing:

Cut, paste, rephrase, delete,

Elaborate, punctuate, rephrase,

Cut, elaborate, paste, delete.

Sometimes an entire day will pass, and I will not notice, intently focused on extracting every last drop of potential from these words, until....

Each finished post is a work of art, completely mine. Manipulated, stretched, crushed and floreated to my exact specifications, made only for my pleasure. I am my only critic, therefore every post is a masterpiece, a symphony of my soul.

The sensuality of this experience would surely keep me hooked on blogging, a burning desire to feel that way as often as possible for the rest of time. The joy of the journey overruling my innate laziness. Writing is not laborious, it is intrinsic.

Blogging is surely my niche. But alas, the challenge of life reared its ugly head once more, and I’m sorry to say I faltered. Five weeks between posts. I lost focus and forgot my blogs inherent impact on my well being at the first upheaval in my routine.

I feel like a fool. Like I found a restaurant at the end of my street serving ridiculously low-priced, delicious, nutritious and satisfying meals, sang its praises and introduced all my friends to its delights. Then I walked past it every day to eat McDonald's on my own.

Well I am sorry for what I have missed, but here in this post I have passed the first challenge. I will not regret my absence, nor will I see this as a setback. Nay, it is a victory. I have broken the mould of cast away fancies. I have blogged once more, and once more the fire courses through my veins, burning with bloggy desire.

Fear not dear reader, I will not abandon you again.