WriteJayWrite

Were I to relate this blog to a child, I’d say I came through the “what should I call her” phase and the “she’s going to be a doctor or an astronaut one day” phase, and then I just sat around and stared at her for a while.  Now I’ve got to get her reading so she can get into the proper potty-training group.  I’ll come back to the metaphor when I figure out where it’s going.

My family and I took a trip last week and on the second of three bazillion-hour flights I wrote a long piece about the universe and its love affair with my dissatisfaction. When I find the notebook, I’ll post some version of the piece, but in summary, no matter where I go, I have a notebook with me.  I have taken this to mean that I am a “writer” because I don’t see other non-writer folk scribbling in notebooks on planes. But, I’ve come to realize that all it really means is that I think that it makes me a writer – there is no proof that it actually does.

Not that I do it purposefully – I take a notebook with me because I know I’ll want to write – but I think the universe makes me want to take a notebook with me everywhere because it knows this is how it keeps me strung out on the “possibility” of writing, without ever actually providing the “opportunity.”  Here ends Jay’s incredibly screwed up view of the world.

I think the child/blog metaphor means that initially I had big hopes and dreams for this blog and the mental pursuit of those hopes and dreams was keeping me from realizing the blog’s innate ability to bring joy.  So, I think today I’m just playing memory with the kid and re-discovering what it means to create and take pleasure in one’s creations. Although, feel free to come up with your own interpretation.

So, there you go.  To read more articles like this, go to  http://www.holycrapdudethisiscompletelypointless.com

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