Evidently I’ve been messing with WordPress for fifteen years, or so I was just informed. I feel like my site is just a hodgepodge these days, but perhaps it was ever thus. I’ve gone through Live journal, Friendster, FaceBook, Insta, TikTok, Scruff, Growlr, Twitter, Snapchat… those are the ones I can remember. What I have stuck to at this point are this site and Tumblr.

It struck me that the revolution has been in publishing and not in writing. In fact when I look to write I’m always looking for “distraction-free ” solutions: computer versions of the blank 8.5 by 11 sheet that is so in voting and intimidating in its stubborn physicality. I want it simple when I write, but social media is tangled and convoluted, a conversation and a thousand million teapots to house our tempests.

I don’t crave publishing at this point. I crave writing: the teasing out of ideas. I don’t feel like this site contains the last fifteen years of my life in any meaningful way. Its meanings and uses are too locked away for even myself. I can only press on.