Why I Want to Blog (by Jesse Gillespie)
I work the third shift, watching double-diagnosed mentally retarded/mentally ill adult women sleep. As my family and friends (well, most of them) sleep; as the stars burn hot and white far beyond the brisk winter air of Minnesota; as the oarfish dream waking dreams of abyssal bliss, here sit I: my genetically tending-to-wander mind forced by unnatural sleep patterns into even deeper and more pell-mell wells of wondering, or lack thereof. To tell the truth, even after about seven months of this night-shift thing, it’s still hard to stay awake sometimes. And it’s really hard to do the things I want to do with all this spare time, such as draw, write, etc. It’s really easy to do things such as watch online episodes of ‘The Office’ too much, or traipse among the YouTube blossoms.
It’s getting to the point where I feel that the things my heart wants to accomplish the most are attacked from multiple sides: from my own fascinatingly aggressive procrastination instincts as well as from honest-to-goodness external spiritual enemies not wanting me to make my life what it’s capable of being. The feeling of opposing magnets comes to mind whenever I open my sketchbook or begin to put words to a tune in my head. I want to make gifts for friends; I want to work on graphic projects; I want to make cute I-love-you cards for my wife. The pencil nears the paper, and the invisible barrier repels it. It really feels that tangible sometimes. Often, in fact.
Thus, this blog. I will tell my friends about this blog. I will tell my family about it. I will even tell my wife about it, whose scrutiny I both crave and fear the most. And I hope that some visitors from the planet at large would stumble upon it, too, and join in my little personal battle of just getting around to freakin’ DOING stuff. Lo, magnetic barrier of wretched lazy-assness! See me grip my heart and unsheath it from its rusty… uh… sheath; behold its bright blade of earnest hope and conquering love!
In short, i’m really gonna try to do stuff, and hopefully this page can be a cathartic insurance policy that I can fashion some reality out of all this dreamy crap in my head. And speaking of crap, it’s time to go. More soon.
Thou hast done well in defeating the wyvern.