Yeah, I am.  I am actually alive, kicking, breathing, fucking, but not writing.  And I feel bad for that, I really do.  Its all that game’s fault… well, mostly.  Is it the fault of a black hole that the spaceship gets sucked in and crushed into the infinite?  I don’t know, but that’s rather what I feel like.  My time keeps getting slurped up into that vacuum.  But anyway, I’m trying to regain some sort of control here… fucking addictive number counting!!

Its kind of depressing when you come back to a blog and have to spend half an hour clearing out the 100s of spam comments that have infested the place.  FUCK!  Like cockeroaches in the walls… termites… they’re everywhere.  Like sand in your crotch.  Only its my blog, and not a crotch.  Yeah.  No don’t make the comparison dammit!

I don’t even know who I’m writing to at the moment, and don’t give me that “A writer writes for himself” spiel.  Doesn’t wash here.  I am sure I’ve said it before, but a writer writes for an audience.  A Zen monk doesn’t need an audience, he meditates quite happily to himself and for no one else.  Me?  I’m an artist.  A performer, and I NEED my audience.  So we’ll see if I can build a new one on the ashes of the old… assuming none of ye old folks come back– which I sort of doubt.  But who knows, if I’m still here, what’s to say that you have deleted me from your RSS feeds?

I’m hungry and cold.  I’m sitting ‘outside’ in my garage, which is a kind of creative sanctuary.  Its a different place to sit at least, than my desk, at my main machine, which is so uber and powerful and full of gaming potential… So I’m out here with insane keyboard-driven instrumental progressive metal pumping pretty loud, without air-con, in the middle of Sydney winter (which can be cold!) writing what appears to be an ACTUAL blog entry!  Something random and meaningless for you people to read so I can confirm my existance.  The problem is I do feel like I’ve really dropped out of my social network on here (haha see the irony? social ‘network’ on the ‘internet’ hardy har har) and that is what I crave.  I do like the relations I have with people around me, for better or worse, they really help describe who I am.  So as horridly meaningless as WoW can be, there are a lot of people there to talk to.  Not about anything important mind you, just talk.  And I suppose that is what’s important.  Being by talking?  Pretty deep for a video game, I know, but you get that from me.  Anyway.

I have things written.  I like the ideas in them, but I don’t know where to put them.  See, I still like the idea of being published, as opposed to this self-publish thing, but who would house such personally important thoughts?  I need far more discipline than I’ve been utilising lately, I think, to pen something substantial enough to actually get printed.  Discipline.  Ha.  Its like a swear word, one that has religous connotations you know?  A sacred word… well.  Maybe not.  Maybe I just don’t use it much.  Let’s see if i can learn.