I Could Be An Accident

No one blogs anymore. I guess I'll take it upon myself to break the silence.

Before I get underway, I just want to say that I write this blog more for myself than for anyone else. I realize that. I don't want to sound like some self-important peddler of internet wisdom talking down to anyone who reads it. But at the same time, I figure if I can sort things out and reach seemingly reasonable conclusions, then maybe someone else could take something useful away from my conclusions as well, which is why I post this stuff online rather than just writing it down in some notebook somewhere that no one will ever read.

The reason I've been stealth-blogging lately is because, when I first started writing this blog, almost every post had a point I felt I could share with people, some bit of insight I'd gleaned from my experiences that I felt was worth passing along. In the last few months, it's been very introspective, and there's a solid chance that no one would take anything useful from them at all. There's a pretty good chance some of the stuff makes no sense to anyone who doesn't know exactly what's going on in my life, and an even better chance that the people who do will make fun of me for what I have to say. I will say this, though: I know the difference between a witch and a Little Sister. I've encountered a witch before. The crying is the telltale sign.

I'm not wrong about Little Sisters. I'm certain of that. Maybe I'm a little too forgiving, but if more people shared that trait, the world would be a better place. Heck, even the witch wouldn't really have been a problem if we hadn't startled her.

But I'm not a genetic experiment. I'm not a Big Daddy. I don't have weapons or plasmids, or a penitent doctor to guide me. To mix my metaphors and toss in a simile, it's like Nick Fury without an Agent Coulson. The Avengers are all there... but they have no motivation.

And that's where everything stands. If it doesn't make sense, that's probably for the best.