At some point, I stopped writing.  I'm not talking about on here; that was on September 3rd of last year, which occurred because I wanted to write a thrilling trilogy about my love of Myth.  It ended up being two posts because there really wasn't anything to put in the third post other than "I got goatse'd by someone while in a Myth-related chat room at the age of 13, and that's clearly a big part of why I am the way I am."

I used to write borderline prolifically.  I had a blog that I updated at least weekly, and I used to jot down random lines when I was riding the train to or from work.  I even wrote World of Warcraft fan fiction.  God, seeing that on a screen, written by me... that hurts a little.

Let's be more precise: "some point" would be a few months after my Dad died.  While he was sick, I wrote a lot about the dying process, and about caregiving.  It was honest and good writing, but it took a lot out of me emotionally, so perhaps I just never regained the fundamental emotional well-being to write.  I'm more inclined to think that I came to believe that writing about anything else was unworthy, or maybe just that I had to do everything exceptionally well if it was to be done at all, because life is far too short to half-ass anything.

The result of this mentality is a sort of mental frenzy when I sit down to write.  My mind scrambles to say the EXACT right thing.  Not only must I compose it perfectly, but it must be some of the finest English prose yet to be written.  If it isn't, I am dishonoring the memory of my father.

This is an absolutely irrational way of thinking.  I'd like to change that.  I'd like to write freely like I used to, so I'm going to try to do exactly that here.  I've made similar resolutions like this in the past.  I have no idea if this will end any differently, but I've got to try, right?