post the hundred-sixty-eighth, 2013

i feel like i should apologize for yesterday's post. i mean, not the topic... no, the topic was solid. it's just... well, i've covered it previously -- and better. so, i guess what i am saying is: the topic was solid but the delivery weak. mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! and, yet... what excuse have i? the pathetic reality is that i don't, in fact, have much of an excuse and i do, in fact, have less than much to say. as is its wont, life marches on, with or without the benefit of my petty observations, and that is precisely what it has done, did, and was doing when i realised it'd been a few days since i posted. yes. yes, well... that is to say... i sort of panic-posted. i mean, the bacon thing WAS on my mind, and it DOES tick me off when people do that -- when they make assumptions about me. those things are true enough, but in retrospect, i find that i was no better. that is to say, i was making an assumption about you: that you would be dissatisfied if i posted nothing for too long. well, now, actually.... first and foremost, i was making the assumption that you exist. i mean, here i am writing and writing with nary a peep from you. perhaps there is nary a peep because there is nary a one of you out there, and so here i am stewing and stewing over satisfying your (insatiable, if i could be so bold) appetite for new writing -- stewing because i can feel your stopping by here and finding nothing new, and your disappointment is palpable, large and puce and beating like a drum... "post"... "post"... "post"... "post"... "post"... you're really quite demanding for a potentially non-existent entity.

and so, in conclusion, that schrödingeresque pressure pressed on me, and in keeping with my nature as an obedient tree, i fell in the forest. if the sound i made whilst falling fell on undeaf ears, and in receiving it, you felt slighted by the weakness of the effort, well... just this: consider yourself apologised at.