Small truths

 It is a long time that I do not write here.

The only person that knew that I had this blog, in my immediate acquaintances, came to me to let me know that I was writing some pretty uninteresting crap. Well, the odd science fiction story that I was trying to write, really. 

The truth is - I am not very sure of my abilities, nor have any reason to be sure of them, so it does not take much to demoralize me.

And... I couldn't read the screen any more. My sight went down a couple of pegs and, suddenly, my writing screen became too small, till I decided to buy a better screen. 

The thing that I use to draw is still usable, because I am at less than arm's length from the surface,  but it makes for some pretty horrible headaches  if one uses it to write. Ergonomics is such a fickle thing. It does not take much to let one aching because of strained muscles and ligaments.

And I am not so young any more - aches stay with me, now, much longer than they used to.

Another truth is that I feel a desire to write only when I feel particularly bad for myself - I am back at it, it means that I have hit the bottom and started digging - again. 

I wish I was a happier person, I wish I did not wake up each morning vaguely deluded that god - or the Universe - have not sent me a nice, fatal heart attack.

But I do not know how to become such a person.

I suppose that I should drop my bitchy drawings and get a day job, but it terrorizes me. Also, questionable in taste as they may be, I still can hope that some day my drawings will resurface from the mists of the web, and lighten up the days of some "fan", long after I will be gone.

They don't pay my bills, but I feel that they are a better shot at "immortality" than whatever 9-5 job I could get.

Also, I am not sure that NOW will be the best time for a new start in life.

Maybe it will.

Bah, this is not even a "rant". 

Just a very whiny whine.

I am sorry, folks.