Aniin Neechie,
Steve here. It's been 12 years since the Ojibwe Confessions blog started. I never thought it would go this long. I stopped blogging a few months during my reign of terror. I often wonder what will be my swan song, the dying bird, the decaying flesh, carrion remains with only bones left to be picked over by the scavengers, the Ka-Ga-Gay. It is quite amazing the Blog has been active this long. It should have been killed off with a shot gun long ago. How many times can you tell the same story over and over again. So what should be the last post.
Not sure if there is any point to continue with the Blog. There are many respectable voices out there already in the Indian sphere. There is Indian Country Today (ICT), Native Report, Aboriginal Peoples Television Network, Windspeaker, Native New Online, and a host of Native media outlets. So really what does this Blog have which could be read worthy.
I think it's time. But I enjoy it. Even if it's not proper English grammar. There is some pride in doing it so long. I have been contacted by a few readers, not too many, but enough to boast my ego and gratitude. The audience is small as I can see by the number of views over the years. The remarks are seldom but I still appreciate them. Whenever I come to the site, I look at the comment section first. Then I look at the number of views. Today, I had exactly one view. Not a whole lot I admit but it was not zero.
It's funny because the best topics come to me just when I am in the dark of the bedroom, my head is on the pillow (I have to lay on my left side with my arms over a couple of pillows because of the pain in my shoulders and the deviated septum in my left nostril) and I am just about to slip off into the quiet part of my brain before the snoring sounds. The bad thing is, I don't seem to remember those creative master pieces the next morning. Oh, can you imagine the great works of writing which are lost in the night air, the universe. All the story possibilities grabbed by the Stars and the Dancing Northern Lights-Aurora Borealis. Man, it sucks doesn't it.
So is this the dying swan, the Crow Duck splashing, the Great White Pelican wasting away from Newcastle Disease Virus-NDV, or the dead skunk on the side of road being repeatedly run (rund is how it sounds) over by SUV's (in old days it would be a Station Wagon) going to the Beer Store, or country cabin. You never know. Me, I think I will try hold out a bit longer.
I really shouldn't be disappointed at the audience or lack thereof, because not sure of what was expected to begin with. After a few years I did have hope some other Neechies would become interested, but it did not materialize. The Neechie audience has a host of reliable, respected places to listen to, to read and I'm just a regular Neechie. But still it has been fun, well most of the time. So if I continue to write it is mainly due to the one reader, the one who takes the time to respond, to forward and maybe they are entertained.
