Does it even help anything?

This is blog is the forth or fifth I've ever had. All have had different point's and purposes but this one I've stuck with the most consistently over time. In 2 days it will be 1 year old.

I was thinking to myself today - does journaling/blogging actually help anything? I'm not convinced it does. Though many people find it therapeutic, occasionally I find it to be a crutch for which to dwell and navel gaze rather than just get on with it.

The pressure to sit down and write something often will lead me down a path I don't even want to go down, but, yet I do for the sake of writing.

I am going to spend some time this evening, rather than blogging something new, but plan to break out an old prolific piece of fiction my friend Aingie and I wrote. I've refered to it a few times, it's calle The Epic and while 75% of it is absolute crap, there are moments of shining genius if I do say so myself. But more to the point, whether you say the writing was flawed, naive or just plain shite, it was the product of actively engaged minds. Inspired minds. Everything I did, read, saw, touched or experienced became potential Epic material. Just knowing I had to churn out 20-50 pages of fiction a week meant everything I did had to be scrutinized for its potential as a muse or inspiration.

That, my friends, is the type of writing that relieves me of my woes and redirects my emotions. There's a good reason why some of the best things ever written in the world were written at the height of an artist's most difficult life moments.

So, a storm is coming up here. I need to rinse the pool water off of me, settle down with a CD of Epic and get down to reading while letting a movie play on the TV.