I was scared to come back to the Internet this week. I was scared, because I thought that I couldn’t come back unless I explained why I’d had to take a break, and explaining why I’d had to take a break was something that I did not want to do, because it was just too complicated and messy and because it seemed that explaining the complicatedness and messiness would have to involve talking about all the things that I didn’t want to talk about, and the desire to not talk about those things was why I had to take a break in the first place, so.
But then it occurred to me that I don’t have to talk about anything that I don’t want to talk about. This, theoretically, makes things easier, or would make things easier, if it weren’t for the fact that there is a part of me that wants to talk about all the difficult things, the better to purge them, the better to work them out, which really just brings me back to square one, which is really more like an octagon or some other shape with way more sides than I can count. And so I am left with this: I do not want to write about the difficult things, I do not want to not write about the difficult things, and I do not want to not write at all.
Do I set aside the difficult things, and try to devote my writing energies to all things positive and lighthearted and nice? Do I want that? Would I even know how to do that?
I don’t know. I do know, however, that naked astronauts are funny, and funny is close to lighthearted, and that’s a start:
(That is a naked astronaut. According to the artist, “he is in space, naked. Those are his underpants beside him. He took them off so that he could be naked, because he likes being naked. He’s smiling because he’s happy.” And, because I know that you were wondering, yes: “that’s his penis. Because he’s naked. In space.” )
(So. Now you know: space causes shrinkage.)
(Ba dum dum.)