Archive for August, 2013

Ramon Casas i Carbó, After the Ball

Instead, all I got is this picture of an oil painting.

What up, Internet. How goes it? How do we feel about capitalizing “internet”?

I told you I didn’t know what to write.

Here’s the thing, there is too much to say. So let me sum up.

I feel like I’ve lost myself these past few years. Or more honestly, I realize and acknowledge I have lost myself a bit the past few years. And I’m slowly getting back to me. Or rather, I’m slowly going forward towards me? I mean, I’ve changed, so I can’t go back entirely, but I feel like I’m working towards getting the essential bits of Christine back. And part of that is writing. And blogging. And I want to do it, I just don’t know if I have the words. Or sometimes I have the words, but I don’t want to do it. You know what I mean?

I don’t have the words today, and I don’t really feel like I should be doing this today, but when the hell else am I supposed to start something? When my to-do list is checked off and all my “to-read” books have been marked as “read” on GoodReads and I feel content and accomplished and my Netflix queue is clear and I don’t have a sewing project I should be doing and my room is clean and tidy? I don’t live in an Instagram fantasy world, do you? I’m just sitting at my desk, staring out the window, except it’s nighttime so I’m really just staring at a reflection of myself and if I wanted to make some kind of meaningful metaphor from it I probably could, but that is so boring.

I ran out of words. I’ll see you on the Twittersphere.



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