where does it go?

I just wrote a blog. It took about an hour. Longer than usual but like with all my blogs, I didn't sweat it too much. I just wrote what was in my head and heart at the moment. Which reminds me that yesterday I read something from Dani Shapiro where she mentions a thinking heart and a feeling mind. I like that. But this blog wasn't about anything so poetic. It was called, "I drank too much last night" (say it like I hurt myself today. But the Johnny Cash version). It was decent. Not the best blog, not the worst blog. And certainly NOT Dickensian, but it was a piece of writing which are hard to come by at the moment (for no other reason than I am just not writing. No water from a stone and all that). And then it disappeared.

Do you want to refresh the page? Um, sure.

Some changes may not be saved. Prolly just the last sentence.

Sukah! Apparently all of the sentences were not saved.

I immediately set back to work, feeling like I could recreate it pretty much word for word. But then the juice was gone. It had already been created. There was no flow, no fun no fireworks. Did I not care enough to re-create it? Surely most of writing is exactly that - reworking, revising, recreating bits and pieces until they become a bigger bit - a paragraph, a chapter, dare I say, a book?!

Not gonna lie. I'm not a fan of the hard work. It's the initial spark and getting caught in the current of the moment that I like the most. Which is all fine and dandy but it is the work and not just the play that makes the thing a thing. Just not all work and no play. I resist writing about my resistance.

So where are the words to my lost blog? Because it's gone does that mean it was never created? Seems a little death-y but even if the words are gone, at least the energy behind the words must be somewhere? Like my dad's energy/spirit/personality. The minute he died, it was dead (sorry) obvious that his body was just a container. Where was he? (Did I just compare my dad to a blog post?)

Who knows? It's the great mystery, I suppose. But somehow, it still seems pretty obvious to me that the ether is quite full. Full of energy, full of love - full of the energy of love? - and possibly even full of lost blog posts.