Well, I suppose this is the gist of it. Some stuff on weekdays and other stuff on the weekends. And audiences. People who read my weekday stuff may choose to also read my other stuff. Or vice versa. It’s the versa I enjoy, though a little vice can too be nice.
The problem with writing something every day is editing. If I were the drawing type these weekday stuffs would be doodles in the margins of a Very Important Sketchbook of Serious Things and they’d never see the light of night or the dark of day.
It’s an experiment, really: to write as if no one is reading, not even me. Only I have no control, which makes this bad science, and also quite ambiguous. But the math is good: the more I write/post, the more people read; and the more people read, the larger the audience; and the larger the audience, the more…. people read.
Life is circular anyway so why can’t writing be circular too, along with my expectations and desires? Which reminds me: Dostoevsky said life is the meaning of life. And Tolstoy said faith is the strength of life. And Whitman said lower your fucking expectations and deflate your desires man, and take unending joy in nature.
They were writers and, taken together, this wisdom amounts to saying faith makes life worth living as long as you lower your expectations and appreciate the sky and the trees and such, if you can see them, or care to. Pryor, not a writer in the sense of D or T or W but a comedian, said fuck it. I think that about sums the whole thing up.