I read his recent tweets, and my guts turn in pure anguish. He’s obviously moved on from me, discarded me from his life with the slightest of his decisions being light, cowardly, honest to a point. It hurts — no — it pains me that I can be discarded so easily given the time we’ve known each other intimately. But one thing that I’ve learnt over the years is that at times, life can be nothing short of harsh, so I discard my anxiety with my feelings for him. After all, I’m not going to beg someone to engage me, lust for me, love me, period.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything for you folks, and there are a number of reasons why. I now have a full time job and just don’t have the time to squirrel away for debauchery as I have in the past. Plus my muse has basically absconded me…my motivation is dwindling at best. With all of this I ask “What’s my next move?”—and for once, I don’t have an answer.
To be honest the reason I started this blog was for my muse’s contentment, and now that has gone, I’m not sure why I should continue. The words no longer come to me as they have in the past. I want to write filth, but just cant. I’ve tried and failed.
So this is my apology to the folks who visited this blog regularly. I’m still here, but only in half capacity. Please grant me the serenity to get my shit together and provide filth for the masses once again.