Because I will die otherwise

I have long been intending to start writing again, primarily due to more severe depression over the past few years, and what should greet me when I finally get around to opening blogger again but this. I find it highly appropriate, and in a perverse way, encouraging to recognize I haven't always been an emo kid.

But about my return to bloggin'.... Once upon a time, I considered myself a decent writer, even growing delusional to the point of thinking myself the next Great American Writer. Flash forward to now (a somewhat regular run of blogging elsewhere happened in there somewhere), and I've come to recognize this might not necessarily be the case. To no small degree is this related to my difficulty with concentrating; being undisciplined to the point of struggling to finish anything.

And already, I'm rambling...again..... well, practice makes perfect. Practice also killed Moe Zart, but that's beside the point.

Having recently reviewed some of my old blogs, I recognize that there's little value in my writing save this: as a journal, a time capsule of my thoughts. I sorta remember many of the things I made oblique reference to, but I also have a flood of memories that come back upon reading an obfuscation or two.

So I will write for myself, if for no other reason than to be writing, and to hopefully have some measure of success against my depression.