Who enter . . . all ye abandoned . . . have hope . . . welcome! We have come to share our banana guacamole and give you a new porpoise!

So, I’m pretty fuzzy on exactly what it’s supposed to say over Dante’s entrance to Hell – I don’t plan on ever going there myself, you see – but I wanted to let you know that here at My Marvelous Maelstrom of Moving Memes, Musings, Malformed Manuscript Machinations and Millieu, that there should be some measure of giggles, hopeful pondering  and thoughtful insights from squeezing into the spaces between all of us; feeling individually abandoned, collectively herded. But it might also resemble literary Hell. Just a heads up. Could go either way, really.

I have no right to write any more than the rest of you, right? I think that would be something – all of us writing a blog, scrambling for time to make sure everyone gets read. Gosh, there’d be no time for endless Survivor marathons or Happy Days reruns. Therefore, my ridiculous idea isn’t shot down so much as Dead On Arrival.

You really should consider writing something yourself, though. It feels good when the words are flowing and the key strikes keep coming and coming. There’s a purpose, a creativity vein is crumbled loose from the deep shaft of living and breathing that kept going further and further without really knowing where or perhaps why. All of a sudden, you find it. This rich, deeply ancient ore long forgotten that whole new industries and processes are developed in your life to find ways of leveraging this discovered material with so many uses.

Or, you could just keep coming to sites like mine, with zero visitors and followers, hoping to find some break in the monotony – a quantum of solace! (James Bond reference #1). Yes, it looks very bleak at the outset, of course, all journeys do – the more risky and unlikely, the worse it looks. But the better the payoff if they do! NEVER TELL ME THE ODDS! (Star Wars reference #1, gosh, I really thought SW was gonna get in first but James was a spy so I guess it makes sense he’d find a way around the rules).

Well, whatever you decide to do, write, don’t write, rerun, don’t rerun, find life-giving literary ore or just pretend Minecraft ore (virtual ore! how sad IS that? Yes, yes, Tommy is so creative and being productive with his fake creations, at least he’s not blowing up something – what’s that you say? oh, look he’s making bombs in the game . . .) it’s yours to do or do not. There really is no try. (Ha! #2, okay – I’ll stop) There are merely professionals or dilettantes en route to becoming professionals or becoming nothing. That’s just how it is. Sorry, but not everyone in real life gets an award AND A PRIZE! For showing up, for participating; for having a pulse. ‘Ain’t nobody got time for that’, someone once said. They’re too busy – not-reading all those blogs – hoping they’re life might become so wonderfully benign it becomes it’s own story worth telling in a sitcom, later rerunned, later blogged about.