Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Should I just End it All?

i am suffering from blog boredom. or guilt. blog guilt.

blog guilt is what happens when you disappear for awhile from the blog scene and then come back and see that everyone ELSE has been blogging relentlessly and you have not been. it then snowballs; you don't know what the point is, and no one is begging you to come back, anyway. so blog guilt becomes blog depression and you think about taking your blog out back and shooting it--a mercy kill.

and then you try to breathe some fetid blog life back into the blog by posting about your lack of blogging. there is something very corporate and consumerist about all this. there is a cycle, here.

The Fritz Self has decided she's just too bored and lazy to do the blogging thing for awhile, and that's distracting, because Fritz writes like nuts. Fritz is also getting married and trying to iron out details and knit a bag and plan music and work on the shower and lose another ten pounds and convince Michael to turn off the thrash metal and figure out what swimsuits look the LEAST bad on her ever-bulging curvy self and how fast money can get spent when one isn't looking and where the cat last puked.

All right. I give up. Should I just put a bullet through this thing's head? If no one comments, I'm doing it. Seriously.
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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