A Year Has Past Since I Wrote My Note

Hurm..... Just plagiarized Sting... and the Watchmen comic. I don't talk much. In real life or in my blog. This is owing to the fact that I don't believe anyone would be terribly interested in what I have to say. I know in the past I wasn't a terrible writer. I won prizes in college for the things I wrote (never more than $150), got published in minor things, wrote a story and submitted it to the New Yorker and got rejected. Last thing I ever submitted anywhere. Pretty ridiculous to think one can go from college wrting contests to the New Yorker in one step, but that's me in my youth for you. Now I'm older and rambling and not sure where I'm going with this post. Just started writing again recently. Decided my goal was just to write at this point rather than to write to try get published. Better to be a failed writer writing than a failed nothing sitting on his butt. Writing was my New Years resolution, of which I only started a few weeks ago. Let's add 'lazy' to the list of faults, along with self-deprecation and unreasonable ego. What the hay, I'm glad I'm attempting to write again, although it's very difficult to get interested in any of the ideas I've had of late. One of them was a story about a race of Aliens who can spread viruses through the air that are deadly to humans. I was going to call the story 'The Immune' until I saw that a story with the same name was published a few years ago. Wish I had a punchline here. So I'm writing even though I have little faith in being read, and I'm talking here with little faith of being heard. This is best, as amatuerish material should be ignored.