Writing for Wastelnd is the most cathartic feeling I've had in years. I think a listening ear is something I've overemphasized - simply melding my moods with vocabulary, rather than any summation of colors, words, lines, songs, or so many examples of what else, feels incredibly natural.
The blog was intended more as an outlet to spurt out less personal ideas, such as rebuttals to arguments I've deconstructed, or my own mini-essays on entertainment topics. A blog that'd mainly serve as a host, which I'd link to necessary audiences.
The artistic journal it has become is really something of a dream come true; I've always wanted a long running history of my thoughts, and, almost to a tee, here it is. It's quiet, it's individual, and it's not something I feel a huge pressure to do. As previously stated, pattering away at the keyboard while I simply pour thoughts along the screen is as soothing as a hot bath. It's rather sobering, as well; I don't think I've left, nor entered the site with a strong emotional fire. Any sparks are doused rather quickly by the foamy bubbles of meandering freedom which such an aimless medium provides.
No real purpose to this ditty of gratitude, but here's to a new favorite hobby keeping me up all through the night. It's the best time of the day.
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