drafts

Right now I have a bakers dozen worth of draft posts waiting for me to do something with them.

I start typing about a topic and about 6 sentences in, something happens. It’s not that I lose interest, lose my train of thought or get interrupted; it’s more that I am wondering what is the point of adding my noise to the general cacophony.

I was listening to New Model Army the other day, and a line from 225 is sticking in my head:

“This golden age of communication means everyone talks at the same time”

Change the word “talk” to “type”, and it’s like they knew Twitter was coming. I know, I know, some people are madly in love with it, but I think I may have crossed that mystical age barrier where I become an old fart who just doesn’t really find the Next Big Thing all that relevant.

It’s funny; I’ve actually been feeling pretty chipper lately, with a spring in my step, and yet everything I type is sounding very grumpy.

*shrugs

And on that note, I’m going to walk home and marvel at the glory of a mass of yellow forsythia in a neighbours front yard.