Prelude

I'm aware of the lack of updates to this blog this summer, and while I might try to explain them away by citing my increased work schedule or college preparation, the only real reason I can think of is a distinct lack of creative will. I've had plenty of inspiration, perhaps even more so than I experienced during the school year. Everyday at work, or on the train commuting to and from work, I have been witness to some of the most astounding examples of humanity. I mean that in the least profoundly stereotypical sense. I mean real people, people who I otherwise would have looked right through. Sitting on the 8:29 local train to New York every morning has forced me to take into consideration the people around me, if even on the most superfluous of levels. When I'm not lost in a book, or attempting to shake of the wispy fog of sleep, I have found creative refuge in the people around me, forcing my imagination to make the time pass. It's shown me that, despite what I may have thought, it's been awhile since I have really used my imagination that way. I'm talking about the old school, looking-at-people-and-inventing-their-life-stories-in-your-mind kind of way. And it's captivating, and darkly comic; providing what would normally be considered prime material with which to write about. So why haven't I taken such great inspiration and transposed it here?

I suppose the answer to that question would be found in the same place I'd find the answer to a lot of questions I've been asking myself lately, like: Why am I not as prone to argument anymore? Why am I not as sarcastic as I used to be? And, perhaps most disturbing: When was the last time I had a really good conversation?

Sitting here and thinking about those questions has provide me with a jolt of sorts, awaking in me a refreshed need to express myself.