Why I stopped writing

A few months ago. I stopped blogging. The last meaningful piece of content I produced was in January.

I did it for a few reasons:

  1.  I thought it would force me to produce more thoughtful content. I thought, if my mind was forced to fill the distribution channel I had. I would. A good distribution channel would surely present itself.
  2. My words here started getting referenced by people outside a close circle of people I really trust. Reporters started referencing my writing in conversation and others got into “what I really meant by…(insert anything at all)”. I thought that if I stopped writing this would stop. As if I had somehow forgotten one of my cardinal rules. Once you put it on the internet it belongs to everyone else. It didn’t stop. They just referenced other things.
  3. I’m getting married. To me, this is the single biggest accomplishment of my life thus far and having a successful marriage is unforgivingly important to me. I wanted to remove some distractions. Writing, for me, I thought had become a distraction.

So I stopped blogging. In the end, I realized something that a few people who know me well will probably find hilarious and obvious.

I was wrong about all 3 things.

I have a lot of production in me.

Trying not to produce and removing writing put me into this position to point that energy somewhere. That energy consumed every episode of House I could get my hands on, Modern Family, and a considerable amount of pop journalism on nascent subjects.

I’ve become something of a Deer Hunter savant and at least a few times have become frustrated by a few peoples desire not to challenge my skills in the game.

I don’t even like guns and I don’t have cable for a lot of reasons. The strongest of which is that it’s a distraction from creating things.

This was a stupid experiment. It’s over.