Saying Something

A now-dead Canadian literary icon once said, “One ought not write until the thought of not writing becomes unbearable.”

I’m guilty of the exact opposite. So, I’m holding back a little, hoping that I at least get out of the habit of writing and somehow return to the wanting to write. I forget what that hunger to write feels like. I’m bored, tired, and fed up. I’ve got a lot of stress in my life, and I still have some traces of my depression. It hits me in that I find it really hard to get motivated, so everything I do still feels like an effort. Writing, these days, feels like an almost constant reminder of the things going wrong in my world. Most things are all right, but… The things that aren’t are really proving to be thorns in my side.

Soon, I’ll be launching a podcast. I keep saying “soon” because every time I set a deadline, life inadvertently seems to topple it. First, technical problems, then mojo problems, then more technical problems, then I get sick, then I have the solution to all my technical problems, it would seem, then I buy the product with which to solve those problems, and then I can’t install the bastard.

So, today is the can’t-install day, and I’m frustrated yet again. It’s this frustration that prevents me from caring about writing, because all my thoughts are preoccupied with how can I overcome the obstacles in my life, and what is it going to take to do so?

But given that it’s an install issue, ergo a product issue, and both the technical department of the manufacturer and the store at which I purchased the product are closed today, there’s not much sense in sitting around and trying to overcome it all, huh?

Today I’m calling it quits on pissing around and I’m recharging my battery for my camera. I love taking photographs, so why have I not been doing so? That changes this afternoon. I’ll be heading to the Commercial Drive area for some autumnal photos of the popular ‘hood. I think I might just capture the kind of whimsy and zest for life that will translate into inspiration for later.

Another reason my writing’s been lacking of late again is the recurring absence of sex drive. Whee, how fun. I’m starting to suspect it’s my sudden sedentary lifestyle that’s the problem there. (Probably some stress, too.) I might be overweight, but I’m always somewhat active, except for of late. I’m just realizing how inactive I’ve been, and it’s pretty surprising, actually. But exercise causes blood to flow and you gotta have the blood flowing in order to get aroused, eh? Anyone who doesn’t think their level of exercise affects their sex drive needs to check their heads.

And yet another reason my writing’s been lacking of late is probably a result of my not listening to music. With this piece-of-shit soundcard provided by Dell as a stock item, I can’t listen to anything on here, and I never think to listen to it elsewhere in my pad. Music’s a huge factor in creativity for me. Funny that I should be so without it these days.

Then again, all this shit can be a result of depression, too. I’ve been doing really well, but maybe I’m just used to feeling it, you know? Ah, life’s a complicated wench.

In an hour, I pounce on the east side with my camera. Should be a fun departure. Then, hockey. If young, virile, energetic men can’t kickstart some hormones for me tonight (especially hanging out with a gay male in that arena) then I’m officially declaring myself a eunuch.

I shall report. Down with eunuchy. Let us end the exiling of horny Steff. Yeesh. Hockey, indeed.

(*On the music front, I turned on the soundtrack to the Killing Fields, and I'm feeling it for the first time in a while. Fantastic.

And about the podcasting thing -- there's nothing I want more in my life right now than to get past the first show. This has been one of the most trying experiences of my life, but I refuse to give up on the fucking thing even though almost everything in me wants me to do so. I cannot possibly convey to you how utterly conflicted I am within about it all. I'm so angry and frustrated and exasperated, yet something else tells me that it's all going to be worth all this angst. That, also, I can't explain to you. Some knowledge is intrinsic, you know? I'm just tired of feeling like I have something to prove... which I know I do. I'm ready to prove it, but nothing else is ready for that yet. And that's the problem. So, there you have it. A bit more context. How can I possibly be having this much trouble with technology? Oh, right. Dude's got a Dell. Fuck, man.)