5/19/2017
A fall

I think part of my recent writing drought is because a part of me just does not want to get involved anymore.

Lately I find myself surprised when I manage to put together a pretty strong - strong is relative here - string of sentences commenting on something about politics, for example. "Why do the relatively quiet workers get bypassed and the clear teacher's pet be railroaded?" It's not a new thought, but sometimes old thoughts need restating - and I'm not sure I have it in me anymore.

Right now people are talking about this longform piece. I wouldn't tell you what it is about because I'm too lazy to link to it, and because I'm trying to see if, in five years, when I read this again, I'll remember what I actually was referring to. (Maybe not.) The smart people are arguing the hell out of each other, about who can and can't comment, essentially. I have not read it, and now I'm deliberately not reading it.

I'm not sure I have it in me anymore. I'm drowning in too many preoccupations I can't even do the things I used to enjoy doing, or, perhaps, the things I still enjoy doing. Either that, or priorities are shifting. Or I'm focusing on minutiae.

Right now I'm thinking of people who die after "a fall". I can't believe it's never occurred to me that this usually means a serious head injury. I always thought they broke some bones and it was so terrible they died of those injuries. Like, a hip is dislodged so badly they die.

This sounds terribly insensitive.

I'm not sure I have it in me anymore.

And your responses...

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