I’m well aware that in certain circles – infinitesimally small circles – I’m a character of note. I’ve done several things in my life, both personal and professional, that have attracted an audience, many of whom I now know.
Throughout my life I’ve been bombarded with ideas. Many of these ideas I just forget almost as soon as they occur; I’m sure most humans experience this on a daily basis, too. Other thoughts, for better or for worse, are expounded upon and become some kind of entity: a piece of music (or an entire band), a web site, a few pieces of printed paper, a loose-knit organization.
As a harsh critic of my own output, both artistic and commercial, I’ve never understood why I start and finish something, or why I don’t share certain things, or why I don’t publicly call attention to more of the things I do. The act of creating is a force I’ll probably never understand. The only person who seemed to describe it accurately was James Joyce. I’m too lazy to wiki the exact quote, but it had something to do with him being in a fugue state while writing.
However, I understand the act of ending things much better. Destruction is easier to comprehend than creation. In my case, I usually stop doing something because I’m bored of doing it, it isn’t turning out the way I like, I don’t have the same passion I had for it as I did when I started, I hate what it has become, or I simply want to fuck with the people who are fans of it.
Many times in my life when I’ve given up on something, it has negatively impacted people I know emotionally. Ending bands, ending “businesses,” ending relationships, ending blogs, whatever. In some cases, the finality has burdened me with a certain sense of guilt while at the same time feeling like a great, big exhalation.
There are things I’m currently involved with creating that I no longer care about. In the coming weeks and months, it will be obvious what these things are. In advance, I’m confident that these things are worthless and don’t really care if it hurts anyone, as to me they are just ways to pass the time, inside jokes between me and myself that I no longer find amusing.
This, my least read blog (according to Google Analytics), will become the focus of my attention. I’ve always tried to compartmentalize the different parts of my life. I try to keep my humorous writings, false writings, music writings, satirical writings, filthy writings, angry writings, and serious writings separate, as I think most people tend to take my writings at face value and confuse what I’m saying with who I am. I no longer have the time or energy to consider my audience in such a way.
I’ve owned thomasmahoney.net for several years and have done nothing with it. I’d like that to change, and have this blog be the centerpiece of it. I’ve learned that the promises I make usually hold no weight, none more so than the promises I make to myself. So I don’t consider this a promise to the future; it’s simply a warning to a crumbling present and boring past.
In other words, when certain things now alive become ghosts, don’t haunt me with, “why?” If you can’t figure it out from this post, then you’ll never understand. And as always, it isn’t my job to make you understand the way I operate. In an era of, “the way things should be” this is simply, “the way things are.”
It’s time to focus.
- The Management
P.S. If this comes off as overwrought or too serious, here’s a good old-fashioned “go fuck yourself!” to spice it up a little! God, y’all too serious most of the time!