We got back from the trip to the States about three weeks ago. “How was the trip?” people asked me, and I said “Good! The trip was good.” The trip was good, and being home is good, and it’s all good.
I’ve been trying to write about it for about two weeks–one of the old-style picture heavy trip posts I used to write, four or five years ago–and I can’t get it up, man. I can’t care. I want to think about things but I don’t want to write about them. Or not here. Or not now. Maybe not ever?
So I’m not going to. I am not going to make myself write if I don’t want to write. (I do, I want to write, but not like this). I went on a trip, and I’m home now. I used to want to write here, and now I don’t.
Thank you for reading, those of you who did. You made my world bigger and more thoughtful, for a long time.