I entered the blogoshpere with a certain degree of hesitancy. Anxious Murmur indeed…

This hesitancy came from a reluctance to publicly wander through a loose chronicle of my daily actions, interests and activities for fear of adding another layer of self-indulgent gas to the digital atmosphere. Unfortunately, this pre-meditated, self-imposed stringency is hobbling a form of expression and exchange for me that I’ve barely begun to explore.

An ex of mine used to very patiently say to me, “David, who do you think is really keeping score?” when I was spiraling up or down a path of perceived appropriateness, grasping for markers of validation or sitting in the familiar position of having my life judged by a fictional jury of peerless members I fabricated, approved without question and had seemingly appointed for life.

It’s just a blog. Really.

So, I’m going to let the jury remain hung and get on with being real, unreal, surreal if necessary, dark, funny, apropos, inappropriate, poignant and pointless and save all of this exhausting existentialism for the French.

And speaking of France…