My Apologies

This week was a little crazy for me. I attended two Phillies games. I was supposed to register for my next semester of college classes. I got day-drunk once or twice. And after Netflix expanded its library to include Cartoon Network classics such as Samurai Jack and Foster’s Home, my noble attempt to re-binge-watch Season 5 of Mad Men came to a screeching halt faster than Don Draper’s ability to bed a woman.

What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t really write anything last week, and all of my excuses listed above make me sound a bit like Joliet Jake Blues in the clip above.

I swear that I wanted to write. My intentions were good; well, they were there at least. I need to keep writing so I can get better at writing and someone will notice my writing and then I can hang out with Chuck Klosterman and when asked about me he will say “He’s more clever than he looks, but less clever than he thinks” and everything will be cool.

That’s the plan.

Thus, whenever I don’t write for a while, due to laziness or busy-ness or existential crises-ness, I always feel a need to apologize. I wish I could say that this need stems from my guilt, that my heart is fed up with my mind that could be so cruel as to keep my myriad of fans waiting on my next stroke of genius for so long.

But that is definitely not the case, as is evidenced by my stacks of personal journal entries (not a diary). In these journals (not diaries), high-school Tyler would, before expressing his feelings on girls and loneliness and not getting laid (really all one topic), always begin with an apology for not writing sooner and a promise to write more often in the future. Usually, by the time I was finished with all the self-reprimanding and crying and vows towards personal betterment, my hand was too cramped up to write about girls/school/ my-existence-as-a-small-speck-in-this-giant-universe.

It was a flawed system.

And so, I’m not going to do that here. I doubt that anyone has noticed my blog’s absence from their newsfeed other than my sister and myself. I don’t need to apologize to you. I don’t need to apologize to myself.

I just need to write more.

And stop relying so heavily on “I” in my articles.

More to come this week: I’ll be finishing my Mad Men binges, and I hope to continue writing up the show on a weekly basis. I’ll be putting up a recap of how “The Perfect Bracket” ended up working out (spoiler alert: not well). And I’ll probably write about Daft Punk’s ridiculously amazing ad campaign for their new album at some point.

But I won’t apologize.

Written promises that I will keep. And miles to write before I sleep.

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One Response to My Apologies

  1. Pingback: Why It Took Me So Long to Write About Coachella | Shitty Banter

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