it seems I have this need to reset after writing entries like those published earlier in the week. It is as though my brain needs a few days to recover. No different than my body regrouping after long runs. Not that I don’t want to write, just that I can’t seem to. It will come back, just takes a few days. there is a clear ebb and flow in this blog process. I have no need to force it. I just note the difficulty and wait for another day. There is so much left to write, and I often find myself weeding thru the experiences of my life to find those I’d like to add to this blog. In the moments following a significant entry my mind races along and all I can see is all these entries I will write. I have to temper that instinct to just keep writing. It isn’t a race, and as impatient as I am, it has been a reasonable pace. I have thought quite a bit about how I want to transition this into a memoir. Though I do have my doubts, and would like to pause that for a while. So much harm has been done to me. The truth in that is that a memoir could be a weapon. I would never want that, though words and truth are indeed dangerous. To leave my life behind the door, shared only in 50 minute blocks, is to allow my family to sit in ease, oblivious. Were a memoir to come to the forefront would shift the dynamic and focus some light on our dysfunctional life we have spent together.