It sounded like an interesting thing, initially. I thought perhaps it would be good for my writing. A different medium, that would take my words in new directions. Inspire me to a certain fearlessness.

It did not.

I am not a bloggy person.

My short stories, I am hording, getting ready for the book. And I’m at a time in my life where I simply feel like keeping things to myself. I write a story, I file it away. Mine. I do not want to share my words. I am not certain why.

I am not a political sort of person. I am not inclined to write commentary, or journalistic posts of current events.

Journal entries are where journal entries should be. Hidden in a journal under my bed.

I am just not comfortable exposing myself in public. It is not who I am, it is not what I am trying to do with writing. I'll keep my page of short stories here, because it's convenient to have some together on a webpage, when someone asks to see my work. But all this blogity bloggy blah blah blahg post pieces of your life in front of the world as if it's interesting. Blech. I do not like it.

It was a fairly interesting experiment, I guess. I learned things about who I am, and who I am not.

I am glad to be finished with it.