Been a month now. Or so it feels like. Actually, it was longer than that, when this hermitization initially sowed its seeds, but we’ll start off with the hermitization of late, not the longer one but the recent one.

No TV, no music save for something to listen to whilst writing, whilst reading. No TV shows (missed a good many episodes of a good many shows but I’m past the point of giving a crap about them), no movies save for the once-in-a-month ritual cinema visit, and even that has lost its charm.

Books, more books, writing, more writing, reading poetry written by amateurs and honed artists alike on WordPress, stealing glances at snippets written by the greats like Byron or Homer in between the reading and writing: that’s what it has come to. And I’d not have it come to anything else.

PlayStation sits gathering dust, racks of latest titles wanting to be played but not being played. Sigh. I don’t have time for that anymore, none of that. There’s books to be perused, books to be read, books to be used, books that have something to be said.

There’s writing that needs done, writing for myself, my clients, writing for this blog, writing for some friends.

Stephen King, Joe Hill, Ray Bradbury, Lovecraft, Poe, Cormac McCarthy, Dean Koontz (only begun with this one, still sitting on the fence), Neil Gaiman, Chuck Palahniuk, cram and compete for space in that small bookshelf space in my wall. King’s winning, I tell ya, he’s winning. The others make their way to my desk, and pile horizontally to save space. I read a lot.

What’s outside? I’ve truly forgotten. There’s only the sun that steals peeks at me from behind the window, the moon that stares when I’m in the loo, rain and wind which crave for my company but I ain’t gonna give it to them.

There are other worlds than these. And to them I belong. People are evil, a lot of them, I’ve come to realize, and I steer clear, interacting only when direly necessary.

There prevails a grammatical issue in my writing, the misplaced usage of commas and semicolons and em dashes. I try and will try harder to improve upon it. Any help will be welcome and necessary. But they say a man’s best help is the one he gives to his own self by his own self.

Blubber, oddment, nitwit, tweak.

Peace out.