As I sit here staring at my computer screen in futility, it's occurring to me that without some sort of negative emotion worming its way through the front of my brain, I can't write for shit. As I sit here staring at the previous sentence, it's occurring to me that most of you are probably in agreement.
Seriously, in thinking back to my best work (or, rather, what I consider to be my best work), I can identify almost all of it with either A) being sad or upset or B) being angry or upset. The rest of the so-called best can probably be attributed to being paranoid and/or confused.
Case in point: very recently I posted several entries on MySpace prior to moving to Blogger, and they were all written under the auspices of being slightly (or greatly, depending on the entry) depressed. Appropriately enough, my work was viewed more times that week than any other week since I started posting ramblings on the Internet (speaking of hit counts, can anyone recommend an add-on/gadget/widget/whatever to keep track of hits on Blogger?). Even accounting for the relative proliferation of posts that week, I had way more readers on average than I have ever had before.
Now, despite my life falling to pieces before my very eyes, and my apparent lack of power to do anything about it, I've been in a pretty good mood for the past couple of days. And, in following the thesis of this pointless writing exercise, my work reflects that. You'd have to agree with me... I've been a bit boring these last few entries.
Where am I going with this? I don't know, really... maybe it's just a normal reaction in adjusting to a new "home," but I'm thinking that someone either needs to kick me down or piss me off.