An Apology

I owe all of my frequent readers an apology. You've been reading real tripe here for the last few weeks and I have no excuse (although i'm about to offer several).

I made myself a deal when I started writing this thing. Write as often as you can. Write even when you don't have anything to write about. Write about nothing if you have to, but write. Because writers write and if you want to write you need to write. Right?

That mandate has led to some really bad writing. Even now, I'm writing poorly about an inability to write.

My life has also been pretty boring (read: uneventfully fun) recently. I'm having a good time, but it's nothing to write home about.

Maybe one of the biggest problems is...the people who read this know me pretty well. If you didn't before, you do now. And much like any relationship, you've almost gotten to the point where you've heard all my stories.

I seek a remedy. I don't know where to go from here. My best plan is to just wait. Wait until something occurs to me. That seems to work most times. And if it doesn't...well then I don't know what I'll do.

Until then...I dunno. Don't read this as an obituary for Rapid Eye Reality. I'm not giving up.

I'm just thinking.