A funny thing happened

Another weekend down, and nothing written. But a funny thing happened... Im thinking about writing. The words have been percolating up through the noise to sit simmering on the tip of my tongue. Ideas, like mosquitos, used to bite me, and not just bite but suck the tepid boozy blood from my brain until I had to acknowledge them. Swat the tiny biting bastards from my head and onto the page. Its been a long time since those thoughtful probosci have found flesh - they seemed to have abondoned me, or I them. Years now, and nothing but windshield - sploosh - a splayed, oozing mess that even a wipers' blade fails to sweep clean. Just fuzzy, inarticulated apparitions coating the walls of my brain. Time to offer up the blood again, see what these little nibblers have to say.

This blogging business feels strangely similar to a good wretch after a particularly bacchanalian evening - you feel better, sure, but not exactly comfortable. Self consciousness is the enemy of a writer - I know this - and yet I feel it too. Keenly. Writing fiction is one thing, but telling the truth? This blogging shit takes balls, man. Bloggies the world over, I salute you! It ain't as easy as one might think to pound out a page or two and diablog a log... A back-stage pass to the sometimes frightening circumlocutions of my mind? That horrifies me. It may well horrify others. So be it. Im tired of the bloody quiet. Lets make some noise - start a revolution, as that tired hack, Sheen, would say... I'll call it Not-Losing.

Side note - am I even allowed to swear in a blog? Do these things get censored? And if so, by whom? Are there blog police tip-tip-toeing through the soupy mess of our collected, inane, insane ramblings?  <shiver>