I write a lot. A lot. 

Quite a bit of it is of the Socratic solipsistic nature, gazing hard into the ignorance of the world and commenting on how the collective we can do better. Not a bad preoccupation but presenting itself with certain limitations that bind the brain like a too-tight corset squeezing the blood in opposite directions until both your feet and your face get puffy.

I believe that every once in a while, in a ‘take myself down a peg’ sort of way, it’s necessary to look hard into oneself and catalogue one’s own bullshit a tad.  Perhaps in an effort to know thyself, perhaps in efforts to change the self before leveling accusations at the collective, perhaps just as an exercise in seeing past the narcissistic image in the mirror and recognizing who one truly is.  I dunno but it seems valuable and I’m going to be writing anyway, so why not?