The final placeholder of the decade? Or the first of the next?

I have done three posts worth of blog work today, but nothing is quite ready to serve just yet. This is one consequence of using other writers as prompts rather than digging deep for shareable content with a personal perspective. This outcome was unthinkable when I started blogging, so thoroughly had the academic pressure cooker alienated me from books, reading, and learning itself. It seemed odd that almost all music bloggers were more interested in writing about books. Now that I’m one of them, this invites the positing of a maturation or developmental process whereby the ability to focus long enough to read a book emerges only in one’s thirties. I reject this notion, in my case at least, via a claim of self-awareness. When I eat poorly, sleep poorly, and utterly exhaust myself, I feel exactly like I did as an adolescent, and I have the same ability to focus as I had then (basically none). It is one of my great regrets that I waited too long to take my first break from school.