How I Disappear

You may have noticed I have been “absent” lately. Probably, you didn’t notice at all.

I read an article just now which I think managed to summarize why. I won’t link to it because its presentation was crude and vulgar, but the point was sharp and something I needed to hear. It comes down to this:

I’ve drifted from ironSoap (and writing in general) because there is too much that I want to say that I’m not comfortable publishing.

You may have noticed big gaps in posting dates. This may indicate to you that I’m exceptionally busy or procrastinating. That is not the case. Instead I have written and subsequently deleted without posting at least five lengthy posts. All of them contained some variation of the qualifier, “I can’t be any more specific about this here…” What purpose is the expression of ideas and thoughts if they have to be carefully monitored for potentially trouble-causing slips?

There are no deep, dark secrets being kept here. I don’t mean to pique anyone’s curiosity or feed an appetite for scandal. It’s mostly work stuff; people have been fired for writing about their jobs so I’ve always tried to keep my work out of my writings. But that’s what’s on my mind, that’s what I want to talk about and when I can’t I find it nearly impossible to be vague enough or to think of something else to say. It’s just not how I function.

I also have gotten to where I worry about what I’m writing being good enough, interesting enough or well-written enough to pass some kind of internal litmus test of postability. Doing that has sucked the fun out of keeping my site updated and now I can’t remember how to stop.

The article called this “blogger burn-out” and that’s what it is. I’m burnt out on this and it wasn’t something that was done to me it is a response to my own reactions to several years of posting. Which doesn’t mean I’ve stopped writing altogether. I’ve been working on a campaign for the guys I play Warhammer 40K with, making up rules and scenarios. I’ve been chatting more on IRC and IM with friends. I’ve written a lot of email. I’ve also been talking to people, like in real life with faces and expressions and everything.

This is not the end. Probably. Maybe this is a beginning. I don’t know. I do know that I’m tired of writing here about writing here. I won’t bother anymore until—or perhaps if—I have something I actually want to write about. Until then, adieu. My inbox is always open.

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