In the grand scheme of things, I sometimes feel like I'm marooned on some desert island, still awaiting rescue after all these years.

Some people lead interesting lives, and live to tell about it. I myself have lived an interesting life, yet I have a tendency to forget the interesting bits piecemeal.

For most intents and purposes, I do not forget things on purpose. They just seem to fade into the distance, and when I try to recall them, I'm left with a dry mouth gasping for filler. Imagine me with the look of a gazelle being stalked by a lion (for those of you who have never seen me, just try harder.)

I came across a blog tonight on Salon.com as I was searching for (of all things) info on a car I wanted to get. What was originally a 'whatthefuckisthisshit' turned out to be a worthy bookmark on my browser. Reading about other people's lives, if well written, is always a pleasure. And if it evokes the motivation for yourself to leave a better written record for the one you just lived through, it goes into my book as a classic.

An unfortunate side effect of it all is that, in uncertain hindsight, you do ask yourself, "what have I actually accomplished in my own lifetime?"

As if everything and anything I've ever done and written, as per above, just seem to fade into the distance...