Actually, everything I wrote last time about breaking my own rules, was all for nothing. (Well, it’s never for nothing if you write a more than 300 words long article well connected to your other projects, while you manage to understand something important about your messed-up brain but yeah…)
That one coloured picture among all the black&white images did not make the difference at all. Actually it was one of the worst performing posts that weekend, because so many other accounts also shared it.
It was a week ago, and I did not do too much (actually, I did very little) around my road cycling projects.
I just don’t care. Just want to finish it.
This morning I literally counted the months, April, May, June, July, August… no, no, it’s only July, only four months, because after Tour de France. Because after it, people always turn away from road cycling, also it’s just so hard to find relevant content (every year something, at least a few posts new content) about Vuelta a Espana.
It’s not the race’s fault. Just simpe nobody cares. Or at least much fewer people. There is a significant drop in the website trafic after Tour de France. (I just realised something, I’m going to write about it in another post, later.) And why I would vaste my precious time for that, while
I’m really, really so over it?
Only my vanity keeps me doing this. And that tiny little possibility, that it’still possible to achieve something.
Something would make me say it was worth it.
My last 16 years, with all my stubborness, all my autistic stuck-in-a -task-only-for-the-sake-of-the-task situations were not in vain.
Anyway. Today was Gent-Wevelgem. (Do I care who won it? Yes, I even haven’t watched it, I would watch it later, when I would feel it less as a waste of time. Now I’m to anxious and frustrated to do it.)
Besides Paris-Roubaix, this is the other race connected very strongly to the cultural memory of World War I (I even wrote a new Patreon post about it quickly, but I don’t like it, I will certainly re-write it when I’m calmed down a bit again.)
It might be a lucky coincidence, that I just started reading Percipice by Robert Harris, a novel set in those “last sommer days” of Europe. At least at the beginning of the story, where I am now.
Look, how easily I would be able to talk about this topic! About the fact that I want to imorove my French to that level I could read The Thibaults by Roger Martin du Guard, especially the chapters about those few days at end of July-early August. As I can remember (I read the translated version some 20 years ago), those chapters were about Jacques doesn’t understand how can be everyone suddenly so eager to go to war.
(By the way, did I mention that Antoine Thibaul is, how it nowadays used to be said, my fictional love? Don’t ask me why, it’s just do. He is just Antoine. )
Anyway, even from the aspect that somegow I’m obsessed with the relation between World War 1 and road cycling history seems not enough strong feeling to make me.care about my cycling projects.