Not a lot to post about this evening. I keep going over ideas in my head and find nothing of significant value. I’m drained but recharging. I’m reading Love Minus Eighty and playing Tell Tale Games. I’m surfing the web and actually learning a bit about how that is carried out. I avoid the major news nets save for sports data, because I’m learning to see them more as the flashy ‘click me’ story source vs. anything of legitimate substance. I’m still not sure where to go for substance.
Or stress reduction.
Writing isn’t quite filling that space because a part of me recognizes that I could and should be doing more with the written word than I am, thus is ashamed that I am not. It is a draining bit of self awareness tat seems to manifest during the most mundane non-writing tasks.
So, thats all I can cobble together on a slow night. I can suck up the last minute or two talking about the roots of the American Civil war and how the 1856 election of James Buchanan served as a bit of a tipping point, but I’d rather wait on a lengthy diatribe about that particular war.
I suppose I’m just going to go to bed instead.