Last night I guess wanting some variation or reminders I went back to some diaries from those other years. I still have markdown formatted diaries from 2015 but from about 2019 I focused on writing on Day One because of the features and enjoyment. I later learned it was really all I needed and things like reminders and notes apps were fluff. What was interesting at least to me is not only being able to read those almost daily but more often weekly thoughts but how the writing itself leaned in to wanting the presence. Truth be told blogging has become less and less to me. I left more communities than I joined. Inspired by nothing, I left micro.blog, write.as, Wordpress, others. A few I returned to and then left again. Why? No reason besides I wanted to go. Because blogging and what it carries have seemed like baggage at times and archives and histories have to be checked in and cannot be carry on. What I have found is leaving a diary or a blog feels almost like the same thing. Perhaps neither are ever really done until we say they are done. It was that way with all the so-called social communities blogging presented to me. Mini Facebook or twitters that seemed focused at first on writing but soon I found the community or the environment or the social forces. I disliked all those things and still do so I left some on a beer induced whim which often is the best way to go. It does leave those words left unsaid which follow much like stopping with a diary or journal. I found this jumping around writing on google docs and Ulysses and then on Day One. I can trace the thoughts and see what it all meant just like leaving micro.blog or write.as.
The diaries present back a view of an unfinished me with unfinished thoughts and feelings. Just like now. The difference being the tools and artifacts of creating the words. Words in the end are the most important and I have found communities of so-called like minded people are not. They are just chaff that gum up the works for me.
So this year I bailed yet again on writing words in places I found no presence much like I bailed on writing diary entries on Google Docs. To each thing there is a season goes the verse. My season ended on the diary in mid 2019. I could almost say mid sentence. Then there was a gap of time and I would pick up Day One and continue. I did try Ulysses but for me the joke of Ulysses is what it does not do well. Like write markdown text. It also presents no historic view of time. Comparing to my blogging endeavors, the blog archive is a peer I guess.
Coming around again
Like I quoted, to each thing there is a season and for both blogging and diary writing, my seasons came and went with tools since at least 2015. Words did not stop though and perhaps that is the greatest thing because I still felt putting them down was the thing. Blogging communities are great if you need the so-called feedback loop or want to feel the warm fuzziness of comments. But even this came around again this year and last. I joined and left places because I felt they did not reflect what my words did or what I wanted to find in them. I guess in both writing endeavors, I wanted the words and not the comments. Make sense?
Everything comes around and we find new places for the words. Because where we write is not so important as the act and art and catharsis of writing. You can read me here or find me on mastodon at times but other places have fallen down and never gotten back up again. No slur on them. Perhaps it is me that either wanted more or less from them. If you live on them, I’m happy for you. I don’t want a home. My diary entries from years back revolve around my desire to not have a home. Or a car. Or a wife. Or many things that felt like they had reached their half lives. Toxicity aside, each thing changes as my wonderful mentor RWR pointed out so many times to me when we walked the deserts and foothills and buttes in the Mojave. Then perhaps those things which are toxic to us we either lose or they lose us and we find we have come full circle where writing itself becomes the important thing and not where we create the words or what the editor or how many people comment on our photos. Each place has a theme to me though and I enjoy the simple act of sharing a photo or two here or on mastodon. I don’t need your approbation or blame because in the end, I have come around too.
Those old blogs and diaries showed a me that was transforming to something else and it is a forever process. Shadows and detail and moments come and gone.
Life can be a black and white image but even in black and white we find the extraordinary details. Not in the platforms we choose but the words we create.