Trying again.

Everybody else is shouting into the void again (getting back to writing seems to be a popular New Year’s resolution), so I thought I would, too. But what do I write? I’m going forward with the assumption that only a handful of people still have me in their news readers, and of those, close friends. It’s been a long time. How are you, babe?
I haven’t had anything positive to say that didn’t fit in a hundred forty characters. If it’s not positive, informative, enriching in some way, I don’t want it out there. But that’s not life. It’s certainly not my life. I don’t know what I’m going to put here. Nothing, something, everything.

I’ve lost a lot of myself in the intervening years. I know what I want to get back, what I want to lose, what I want to remember but not keep close. So that’s what I’ll put here. What would go on Twitter or Instagram or Facebook, no matter how small, I’ll put here. It’s mine. And I will keep it by me.

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