I’ve always associated writing a blog with this romanticized version of being a late-night DJ, maybe they still exist at college radio stations, but the type that would play interesting albums in the middle of the night and sometimes just talk through their thoughts on air. Versions of this DJ exist in film–think Adrienne Barbeau in The Fog or John Corbett in Northern Exposure–not specifically talk radio, but not what we’re used to hearing on the air now. No shock jock shenanigans, no morning show goofiness, just a voice whispering into the empty night in between songs.
I’ve always sort of wanted to be that type of DJ, alone, talking into the void and occasionally playing Misty for someone.
That’s what I’ve always had in the back of my mind as I wrote in this blog and the one that came before it on LiveJournal. The entries are not all perfectly constructed essays, most are filled with half baked ideas and me working through things in my life. There have been gaps between entries, mostly when I haven’t been sure how to/ if I should be writing about something or when I was too busy being happy elsewhere. Sometimes I’m just writing about events/ things. Sometimes I’m promoting to my void. Maybe you just write more blog entries when you’re not happy, maybe it’s just me.
But it seems like I’m back, tapping on this microphone and asking you to listen and maybe to care as I talk about the aching empty feeling of lost love and muddling through chaotic life choices. Sometimes I talk about movies and books. I am, of course, keeping things from you. I’ll continue to not tell you everything and then sometimes I’ll share too much. I do a lot of things wrong. Hopefully I’m learning lessons each time that I do. I’ve never said that this wasn’t a personal blog. It most certainly is.
That’s enough whispering for now. It’s time for another song. Maybe something by Tom Waits. Imagine your favorite right now. Close your eyes as I press play.
More later …