Looking

I've really been struggling with what to do with this blog.  I just can't seem to find its center any more.  I am sure it is a reflection of my real life too.  Anyone who's been tracking the last dozen or so posts can see that I'm all over the place in trying to grasp what is going on.

I don't know what my voice is anymore.

And part of that scares me.  But another part is relieved.

I am tired of coming to my blog and pissing and moaning about how I'm not progressing. Or how I am regressing as the case may be.

I am drained by sharing some of the raw emotions I'm feeling inside.

I cannot seem to find the creative side of me anymore.  I look back at some of my more lighthearted posts and think "Jeez, Kev, how did you do that?"

And, here's the thing, there are some wonderful things going on inside me that I just want to keep to myself until I'm sure it's real.

I've come to the point where I'm afraid that if I share too much, it stops working.  Does that make a lick of sense?

I don't think I'm putting the Jogging Clydesdale on hiatus.  There's still so much I want to say.  I just have to find out what it is.