Do you ever get that feeling where you kind of run out of things to say, except that you have to mention that you don’t have anything to say? That happens to me very often, and I don’t know why I always feel compelled to still say anything. I think I feel a little intimidated when I see my last post on a blog or something and remember how long ago that post was made.

A few weeks ago, this little space on the internet was hacked (not like serious hacking, though, just a little front-end messing up) and I lost an entry I worked really hard at. (A reader pointed out that it was still on my RSS feed, thank da Lord. Thank you, Kat!) I feel like that contributed a little to me not wanting to write in this space right here.

Truthfully, I don’t know why any of you would care. I know I’ve lost my momentum for steady traffic here. Who wants to check a cobwebbed space anyway? I update my beauty blog a lot, because it’s easier to write about beauty and makeup than it is to come up with stuff for everything else. I have been reading a lot, though. Comparatively, anyway. I finished two books recently—Rainbow Rowell’s “Eleanor & Park” which was a beautiful YA read set in the 80s, and Jack Cheng’s “These Days,” which was super sad (for me at least) and about technology and relationships. It got me to thinking about how dependent I am on technology and how cut-off I still am from everyone.

“These Days” was the first project I funded on Kickstarter. It made me join Kickstarter in the first place. Since then, I’ve funded 15 projects, and am waiting for the day when I fill up the pie chart. I think I’m missing 6 more categories.

Sometimes I feel like my constant connection to the Internet has sucked out my ability to properly connect with people in real life. Thinking back, though, I think it’s unfair to demonize technology and the Internet. Who’s to say that I will be more adept at social cues and situations apart from the Internet, anyway? I could still be a social dumbass if I lived in a remote village.

Anyway, that’s not the point. There is no point, really. I just read a book and it made me think. A lot. I used to say that I was “Re-learning how to be a Person 1.0,” which is something I thought up after reading Zadie Smith’s article on Jaron Lanier’s “You are not a Gadget” and The Social Network. That was a couple of years ago, and I’m still not a Person 1.0. I don’t think a lot of people are their 1.0 versions anymore, and maybe that’s OK.

A few days ago, I read Paul Miller’s article, which was an update after he spent 1 year away from the Internet. He made me realize that the Internet isn’t the problem; the problem is much more intrinsic and much more a part of me than a part of the web. My laziness and listlessness is not caused by the Internet; rather, it’s caused by me and how I am.

Nobody else is to blame, and it’s astounding how long it took me to realize that.

Between that time and reading “These Days,” I mused about my musings on the work habits of people today and a few years go. On April 30th, one of my heroes passed away. Apparently, while he was confined in the hospital, he was still asking for pen and paper so he could draw.

My dad is one of the most intrinsically creative people I know. I say “creative” in the sense that he makes stuff all the time. When he sees something beautiful, he makes a photograph. All the time, he is scribbling, painting, and sketching. He doesn’t read much, and he always seems so proud of me because I do. But what’s the point of all of my consumption of books, and articles, and blog posts, and pictures, if I don’t even make anything?

So, I think, all that’s left here is for me to try harder… I don’t know what the problem is, to be honest. I think Ryan Adams said it best when he said, “Focus on one thing. Make that one thing really good.” I have so many plans and there are so many things I want to do that I keep on flitting from one thing to another. I should stop that. Not so many things all at once, anyway.

Jack Cheng is actually a designer and he used to be a copywriter for an ad agency, but in 2013, he published his first novel. Seeing the book he labored over for so long come into fruition is inspiring. It’s a pretty good book, too. A few days before receiving the physical copy, I held a digital one in my hands. I read a few lines, but decided to wait for the book, and when I felt the heft and read the words, black stark against white, it felt real. And it made me feel like a lot of my dreams were possible. It’s not about what the book said, but what it represented: this used to be just an idea that people helped get made, and now it’s a book.

I think I just needed a little push and maybe this embarrassingly voluminous amount of word vomit did the trick.