I've been so frustrated by the events of the last few months that I haven't even been able to write. Hell, even as I sit here at Starbucks in front of my iPad, coffee at hand and SRV in my headphones, I'm not sure what exactly I'm doing here.

Usually when I sit down to write I have a definitive idea or something I want to express my opinion about in the news or something similar. Today, I just really felt like coming here with no particular objective. I had this nagging thought in my head on my way here and it grew strong as I stared at that taunting yellow blinking bar of Byword: why are you going to write something that, almost certainly, no one will ever read—something that even if one or two awkward souls were to happen upon it that they would in no way be enlightened by the words I'd typed on the screen? "Solace—no, catharsis" I wrote on the screen in front of me. And then I deleted the draft.

Sure, I certainly get something of those two things writing, but that's not why I write. I write because I feel compelled to do so. A subtle difference that may be, but a difference it is.

SRV faded off and iTunes Radio played The Outlaws' Green Grass and High Tides came on and I jammed to its intense solos for awhile and then, naturally, that faded out too. Then The Eagles Take it Easy started playing. Call me a Dude impersonator all you want, but I generally don't listen to The Eagles. I let it play through the fist verse as I stared at cursor teasing me, each blink saying "There're no words on this screen, ass." As the chorus started I realized that a few lines in the verse that had just finished stuck out to me:

Don't let the sound of your own wheels Drive you crazy Lighten up while you still can Don't even try to understand Just find a place to make your stand

Those lyrics didn't make starting to write easier, but they certainly got me thinking about how I've felt lately. I'm so tired of busting my ass and seemingly getting nowhere. Every time I've thought I was going to be able to take a couple of steps forward, I've had to jog a mile backwards.

I've let all of this stuff drive me crazy. Instead of doing all of the things I need to do, I've been stressing about the things I'm unable to change now. None of what has happened has been because of choices I've made. People are free to break their word, to stab you in the back and to generally act like asshats. There's nothing to be done about that—one can only be so selective on the company he keeps and still have any company at all. Which is not to say there aren't some lessons to be learned through what went on—there are probably more lessons to learn than one man has time to sift through. The only thing that seems to be possible to do at this point is to take everything I can from this, use it to build up whatever comes next even stronger than before.

So what's next?

More to follow.

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