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After a paltry and anemic showing over the last few months, I have decided to recommit myself to writing and posting here on Realisa as well as on Biddan Ridge. I also have a website for my office that has been overtly neglected and needs serious resuscitation. I haven’t had the time, energy or interest honestly to do any of it. In a word were people now read the news on their mobile phones and depth is scorned, I think few people bother with the time to read a blog post or a news paper or even a lengthy investigative report in a magazine or journal. Everything it s a tweet or a status update. We’ve reduced our existences to blurbs that must fit on a smart phone screen. They harken the demise of the desk top PC as falling into the arcane heep with the rotary phone or, egads….the hardback novel.

Call me a rebel. Tag me iconoclastic. I like the tome, the heavy hardback novel that rests in your lap. I think provocative writing and literature. I prefer discourse that requires the contributors to have read, comprehended and then synthesized information. I dislike regurgitation of facts and the parroting of “news” and “infotainment”. This is not real. These are not authentic.

And so, I am weaning myself from Facebook. It is the “end of the driveway puddle”, shallow and residual, never lasting long enough for tadpoles to emerge. It offers less than window shopping. It is the equivalent to talking to oneself aloud when you know you’re not alone. It a has also hijacked my writing, which was once truly meant to serve as a journal of my thoughts and had very little interest or acknowledgement to my “reading audience”. In fact, when my only outlet was Realisa, I had no audience. (I still don’t if I am to believe my Google Analytics.) But Facebook gives this illusion of connection and creates a dependency on feedback and commentary. Creativity is no a dependency on affirmation and audience reaction. Life is not The Voice. If one is to write or create, they must do it from their heart for their heart, their OWN heart. If others find joy from their creations, grand. If others detest their creations, that is one’s prerogative. But neither should influence or determine the Whole-hearted.

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