I probably couldn’t count the number of things I’ve written here about not writing unless I took my shoes and socks off. Still, it’s something that I think about from time to time. While I could rationalise that nothing overwhelming has been happening in my life of late that would warrant writing about, often what I write isn’t so much about events but about what I’ve been thinking and how I’ve interpreted things. The curious part of this is that I certainly haven’t stopped thinking. I can say that I definitely continue to ponder and cogitate with great frequency. The thoughts are still there, it’s just that I haven’t been writing them down for some reason which I can’t seem to put my proverbial finger on.
One possibility that’s been floating about in the back of my mind is the fear of persecution. While there’s an XKCD strip that succinctly (if with colourful language) describes my idealistic sentiments on the nature of self-publishing on the internet, there’s only so much effort I can put into keeping myself from reality, and the reality is that it doesn’t take much to turn something I’ve put down in words into a gallows from which to hang me. It’s the kind of thing that concerns me more as I end up further and further down this path of being a ‘professional’. While I intentionally barely talk about my work these days, it only takes one remark out of context for an employer to decide that some loose interpretation of my words doesn’t align or comply with their corporate vision, mission statement, magic 8-ball or what have you. These things occur to me. I like the idea of a place where one isn’t considered guilty until proven guilty, but I’ve yet to come across one.