Blogging is feeling a bit stale for me at the moment, like rancid crumbs in the bottom of an empty biscuit tin. I look inside with the anticipation of satisfying my appetite for something more but instead find nothing but disappointment and emptiness, nothing there to tempt me.
It seems I have nothing much to say – or at least nothing I want to share online – and as I’m not going out anywhere right now either it all feels a bit ‘blah’, as if I’m going through the motions of posting anodyne stuff just for the sake of it. I know I could probably use my imagination to find a few interesting topics to post about, photographically if not musing in words, but to be honest I just don’t really seem to have the motivation.
One part of me understands that blogging is a great way of keeping in contact with the outside world while I’m stuck at home in the midst of this global pandemic so I tell myself it’s worth carrying on with posting whatever I come up with, however lame it might be if I were blogging in another time, another place. But then another part of me feels that if all I’m doing is just randomly clutching at straws and achieving little more than the blogging equivalent of opening my mouth and letting my belly rumble, then why bother?
So I do ponder a bit about trying harder to produce a decent balance between quality and quantity in whatever I do choose to post about because deep down it all feels a bit samey, a bit boring and insular, injecting a daily dose of uninteresting into the ether, and for what? But then I remind myself, if this everyday nonentity blandness is an accurate reflection of my lockdown limbo life at the moment then why not mirror that lack of sparkle and spectacle here in my blog?
Anyway right now I can’t help but ask myself, is it better to post something or nothing in times like these… And for now I’m still undecided…