...follow me on Twitter if you're not already.
If I see an ugly couple making out on the subway, I want to be sure you're in the loop.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
In So Many Words
I began this blog because I like myself immensely.
I am always curious to hear whatever it is that I have to say.
I like re-reading things I've written.
I enjoy looking at pictures of myself.
I enjoy beginning sentences with 'I'.
Especially if the I is me.
That's why I began this blog.
I perpetuated this blog for all of the above reasons.
And also because this became more than I expected it to be.
Six years later (is it six?) and I have as many readers as I have years served.
But the thing is, when I began this, I never expected much.
Now I'm 934 posts beyond the first.
And for a guy who can't seem to get it together, that's pretty good.
So, what am I getting at here?
What's all of this foreplay about?
Well, as you know, economic times have been at an all-time low, lately.
The Dow (which is, I believe, some massive bug-like creature who eats money) has been starving.
Times is tough all over
(That's a line from a high school play that I influenced).
I'm going to take a break.
Which isn't my way of letting you down gently, readers.
The blog will be back.
Likely within a day or two of arriving in Toronto ("They've got billboards here!").
Seriously though. It will take longer than that.
Why am I doing this to you?
I don't know why I moved out of Bay Roberts in October.
That is to say, I didn't.
I didn't know.
Now I do.
I believed that it was for comedy.
Which is only kinda true.
I thought it was to complicate the relationship I was in at the time.
Which is only kinda true.
I thought it was to change something.
That's a little closer to being right.
It's not that I missed cityscapes.
Or being "out there."
Or even Peter White.
I simply missed socializing.
Sure, I did that in St. John's.
But the majority of my time was spent in the rec room.
You can't meet people in the rec room.
You can't flourish.
You can't be more than a shriveled husk of a man, no matter how much you love your parents.
I've figured that out.
I missed socializing.
I haven't written anything in the blog for however long it has been.
Even the post about the dog and Colin stayed in my book for over a week.
It's not that I didn't want to write these posts (I did).
I just wanted to be...out.
I didn't want to be near my laptop. I wanted days away from my laptop.
Now this is happening.
I still haven't finished packing my bags for Toronto tomorrow.
But I'm going. No matter how much I refuse to acknowledge that in my head.
I want to go out in Toronto.
I want to shake hands and make eye contact and experience something.
The blog wouldn't prevent that.
Truly, the blog has never prevented that.
But I'm struggling to write things down that you will all find interesting.
And it shouldn't be a struggle.
For a long time it wasn't a struggle.
This was never meant to be something that I forced.
It was always just supposed to be me.
And it is.
It will continue to be.
It's paulwarford.com, after all.
Unless I really manage to stir things up, this albatross is quite literally my life's work.
I just want to get back to life's play.
I used to be the guy in the room.
I plan to find him again.
Then I (we) will come back to you.
Until he's unearthed, I am announcing Tragic Hero's first official hiatus.
Mulling it over for a couple of weeks now, I decided that I wanted to go through with this when I pictured my Wikipedia page, years from now, saying: "...and then in 2012, Warford announced his first official hiatus from Tragic Hero."
And I thought that might be an interesting twist.
Besides, it makes the blog more famous now.
Fame has a great deal to do with being out of reach.
The other reason is that it is time to write something else.
I spend my days trying to convince myself that I'm a comic.
Really, that will never be true. Not in the sense that I'm striving for.
But I am a writer.
It's time I do some writing.
I spent my 20s speculating on things I may or may not be able to accomplish.
In my 30s I may as well try accomplishing them.
I want to write a book.
What eats at me is that I've had the idea for some time, but still have no title.
It's nothing without the title.
It's nothing regardless right now, and I guess that's my point.
The portion of me that's an adult has come to realize that writing a book isn't about saying you want to write a book before eventually becoming a school teacher.
It's writing a book.
I can write a book.
There are loads of books out there that are shit.
Mathematically speaking, that has to be true.
And someone published those.
I can write a book.
Now that I have this calming realization in me, I might as well accompany it with some actualization.
Something that my life desperately craves.
I'm also going to try my hand at some scripts.
I have absolutely no ideas or concepts whatsoever for scripts right now.
But I should learn the format.
I've been practicing.
Wanna see?
Bye guys.
I am always curious to hear whatever it is that I have to say.
I like re-reading things I've written.
I enjoy looking at pictures of myself.
I enjoy beginning sentences with 'I'.
Especially if the I is me.
That's why I began this blog.
I perpetuated this blog for all of the above reasons.
And also because this became more than I expected it to be.
Six years later (is it six?) and I have as many readers as I have years served.
But the thing is, when I began this, I never expected much.
Now I'm 934 posts beyond the first.
And for a guy who can't seem to get it together, that's pretty good.
So, what am I getting at here?
What's all of this foreplay about?
Well, as you know, economic times have been at an all-time low, lately.
The Dow (which is, I believe, some massive bug-like creature who eats money) has been starving.
Times is tough all over
(That's a line from a high school play that I influenced).
I'm going to take a break.
Which isn't my way of letting you down gently, readers.
The blog will be back.
Likely within a day or two of arriving in Toronto ("They've got billboards here!").
Seriously though. It will take longer than that.
Why am I doing this to you?
I don't know why I moved out of Bay Roberts in October.
That is to say, I didn't.
I didn't know.
Now I do.
I believed that it was for comedy.
Which is only kinda true.
I thought it was to complicate the relationship I was in at the time.
Which is only kinda true.
I thought it was to change something.
That's a little closer to being right.
It's not that I missed cityscapes.
Or being "out there."
Or even Peter White.
I simply missed socializing.
Sure, I did that in St. John's.
But the majority of my time was spent in the rec room.
You can't meet people in the rec room.
You can't flourish.
You can't be more than a shriveled husk of a man, no matter how much you love your parents.
I've figured that out.
I missed socializing.
I haven't written anything in the blog for however long it has been.
Even the post about the dog and Colin stayed in my book for over a week.
It's not that I didn't want to write these posts (I did).
I just wanted to be...out.
I didn't want to be near my laptop. I wanted days away from my laptop.
Now this is happening.
I still haven't finished packing my bags for Toronto tomorrow.
But I'm going. No matter how much I refuse to acknowledge that in my head.
I want to go out in Toronto.
I want to shake hands and make eye contact and experience something.
The blog wouldn't prevent that.
Truly, the blog has never prevented that.
But I'm struggling to write things down that you will all find interesting.
And it shouldn't be a struggle.
For a long time it wasn't a struggle.
This was never meant to be something that I forced.
It was always just supposed to be me.
And it is.
It will continue to be.
It's paulwarford.com, after all.
Unless I really manage to stir things up, this albatross is quite literally my life's work.
I just want to get back to life's play.
I used to be the guy in the room.
I plan to find him again.
Then I (we) will come back to you.
Until he's unearthed, I am announcing Tragic Hero's first official hiatus.
Mulling it over for a couple of weeks now, I decided that I wanted to go through with this when I pictured my Wikipedia page, years from now, saying: "...and then in 2012, Warford announced his first official hiatus from Tragic Hero."
And I thought that might be an interesting twist.
Besides, it makes the blog more famous now.
Fame has a great deal to do with being out of reach.
The other reason is that it is time to write something else.
I spend my days trying to convince myself that I'm a comic.
Really, that will never be true. Not in the sense that I'm striving for.
But I am a writer.
It's time I do some writing.
I spent my 20s speculating on things I may or may not be able to accomplish.
In my 30s I may as well try accomplishing them.
I want to write a book.
What eats at me is that I've had the idea for some time, but still have no title.
It's nothing without the title.
It's nothing regardless right now, and I guess that's my point.
The portion of me that's an adult has come to realize that writing a book isn't about saying you want to write a book before eventually becoming a school teacher.
It's writing a book.
I can write a book.
There are loads of books out there that are shit.
Mathematically speaking, that has to be true.
And someone published those.
I can write a book.
Now that I have this calming realization in me, I might as well accompany it with some actualization.
Something that my life desperately craves.
I'm also going to try my hand at some scripts.
I have absolutely no ideas or concepts whatsoever for scripts right now.
But I should learn the format.
I've been practicing.
Wanna see?
Paul exits
Looks over shoulder
Bye guys.
Keep having sex with each other.
My Word
I wrote this ages ago.
I have no idea when this was written.
I know that it was on a very warm day.
I know I was on a bench.
I prepared to transcribe it into the blog one night, and then I realized that my family is annoying, maybe.
Realizing that your families are all annoying, too, here it is:
Written on The Day in Question:
Kevin Pollack didn't re-tweet me.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
It's not like he plays with the Toronto Raptors.
He was in Casino, for crying out biscuits.
I don't know why I wrote that.
Instead of biscuit, my brother will say, "Bisq-wee."
The Warfords have lots of stupid mispronunciations.
Comes from having an illiterate father.
I kid. He reads.
I thought about listing some of our stupid expressions...
But I've likely already done so in here...somewhere.
And it was no less a waste of time then.
If it's too warm in a car, we'll say, "Ease back on the chaff."
Doesn't really mean anything, but one of us will turn down the heat after hearing it.
I have to stop writing this for a minute so that I can go pet that dog.
I'll try to get a picture.
Fuck, I need business cards again.
He or she was rescued, thank goodness.
Rescued like an orphan.
Or a used hot tub.
Sometimes I think I'm a proficient host in a struggling comic's body.
I'd try writing a script if I had a studio apartment.
No one was ever actually supposed to settle in Canada.
We're supposed to be in sunshine.
We should have settled in balmier climates and just went to Canada whenever we needed lumber.
The Warfords say that, too. Balmy.
If the weather is awful, Colin will say, "It's good and balmy out."
Which is sarcasm.
Today is actually balmy.
Which is good.
I have no idea when this was written.
I know that it was on a very warm day.
I know I was on a bench.
I prepared to transcribe it into the blog one night, and then I realized that my family is annoying, maybe.
Realizing that your families are all annoying, too, here it is:
Written on The Day in Question:
Kevin Pollack didn't re-tweet me.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
It's not like he plays with the Toronto Raptors.
He was in Casino, for crying out biscuits.
I don't know why I wrote that.
Instead of biscuit, my brother will say, "Bisq-wee."
The Warfords have lots of stupid mispronunciations.
Comes from having an illiterate father.
I kid. He reads.
I thought about listing some of our stupid expressions...
But I've likely already done so in here...somewhere.
And it was no less a waste of time then.
If it's too warm in a car, we'll say, "Ease back on the chaff."
Doesn't really mean anything, but one of us will turn down the heat after hearing it.
I have to stop writing this for a minute so that I can go pet that dog.
I'll try to get a picture.
Fuck, I need business cards again.
He or she was rescued, thank goodness.
Rescued like an orphan.
Or a used hot tub.
Sometimes I think I'm a proficient host in a struggling comic's body.
I'd try writing a script if I had a studio apartment.
No one was ever actually supposed to settle in Canada.
We're supposed to be in sunshine.
We should have settled in balmier climates and just went to Canada whenever we needed lumber.
The Warfords say that, too. Balmy.
If the weather is awful, Colin will say, "It's good and balmy out."
Which is sarcasm.
Today is actually balmy.
Which is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)