I think I’ve figured it out. Fucking finally, too.
I’ve been writing online for exactly 10 years now, and years before that, in the form of letters to my girlfriend at the time. I have posted a total of 360 items (many include several subjects):
25 filed under ‘abstract thought’, which are the least popular, ramblings with little relation to physical reality. Thought experiments and such.
2 under ‘fiction’, which was the attempt to approach my state of mind through vaguely autobiographical fiction writing.
1 post in ‘order of appearance’, which I am filing little lists under. The one post so far is titled ‘26 years to learn’. I might put more under this category but most lists I make just seem like a desperate attempt to be funny.
48 under ‘low-life in the high-lands’, which I wish I would have spelled differently. Travel blogs, all things considered the most popular, because people actively go searching for them.
194 items in the ‘own life’ category, which are the posts resulting from things I experienced first-hand.
65 in ‘roadie life’, including all things work related.
7 under ‘snapshots’. Photography stuff. Good posts in my humble opinion, but I’ve kind of run out of things to say.
16 in ‘the local perspective’, where I try to be a movie/music/everything critic.
If you’ve done your math, you’ll notice there are a few short. That’s because at some point, my whole site got transferred from spaces.live.com to WordPress, where a few category settings got lost. I never bothered to clean them up, it’s not that important to me.
My body is in a state of emergency repairs, it seems. Every limb is chafed and I have a huge black bruise in my side. My bottom lip is cut and swollen and dirt is gathering in the marks in my hands.
I took not 1, not 2, but 3 nosedives in 3 days. 2 involved my bike and the last one, 1m-high scaffolding. It’s better now but the day before yesterday, I couldn’t lift anything without bad pains in my elbows, which took the brunt of my last fall. The only thing more damaged, besides my ego, is my self-confidence: I’m being a lot more careful now. I hope that goes away quickly.
Such a tough guy, aren’t I. I have today off after a late shift yesterday, but I’m going right back at it 3.30am tomorrow. Yes, a few body parts still hurt when I look at them but nothing I can’t bite back. They will heal, right? A body heals.
En azo zitte ‘k ier allene.
En azo leve ‘k were ‘s nachts.
En azo gaat ‘t leven verder,
dan da’ w’ widder altid hadd’n gedacht.
It was the perfect crime: No strings attached, no responsibilities. The perfect job as a boy toy, and for a while, it worked remarkably well. We talked, we screwed, and we did have a little something special but nothing that got into the way of a clean break, even if it happened while you were still here.