I'm sitting here on a Saturday afternoon, thinking I should do something with my blog. I've realized that the frequent exercise of writing on the train has resulted in the habit of spinning what I intend to be a one or two paragraph post into the huge yarns or rants.

Part of me thinks this is for the best, as it's a sort of storytelling skill, but another part inhibits me from writing short posts, since I think that if I just sit down to shoot off a quick 'what's on Kevin's mind?' entry, it'll just snowball into something big.

This post is a good example. This is already about as long as I intended it to be, and I'm still going.

I'll try to restrain myself.

I'm feeling burnt out on the web.

No, Internet, it's not you. It's me.

Okay, it's both of us. I know you think you can change, but you can't, and neither can I. Most of the time you're filled with the same crap worded different ways and with different graphic treatments. Whether you're wearing your c|net mask, or CNN, or ABCNews, or wing-nut news links off of MeFi, it all starts sounding the same. There's nothing new. It was fun for a while, and then I grew dependent, spending more and more time with you, hoping that if we got closer, I'd understand the subtleties, but instead I've just been pounded over the head by your pervasive generalities.

Okay, I guess that's true. If I wasn't so co-dependent I could take a few steps back, resist pumping CNN looking for the latest, or at least a distraction.

I know I have a lot to give, a lot that I haven't been, both at home and at work. I'm frustrated by the great ideas that share cycle-time in my head, but don't make it unto the world because my interface has become so one way, with data flowing in in such a torrent that almost nothing ever gets out.

This is probably why my posts have gone down 60% in the last few weeks, while the average length has gone up fivefold: With all the data-pressure flowing in to my head/brain/soul/reservoir, it's rarer that I can dam up the flow for a bit, and when I do, I can reverse the flow, a huge outpouring of content, a torrent of words, ideas, feelings. A desperate attempt to relieve the pressure, the imbalance between data-in and data-out.

It's no wonder that my posts are mostly written on the train nowadays: It's the only time I have access to a computer without having access to the net. It's the only time that the noise stops and I can concentrate.

This has got to stop.

I'm cutting myself off. For every good thing there is that point when it polarizes into something just as bad. For some substances, this happens quickly. I learned this the time nothing sounded so good as cheddar cheese, so I cubed up half a block into a cup. One piece, two pieces, five pieces, and I was looking at the remaining 15, not with disgust, but with utter lack of interest.

Other things take more. There are things you absolutely adore and can't imagine feeling otherwise, but that tipping point is out there, whether you ever reach it or not.

I hit that point right now.

Today I reverse the flow.

Starting now, I'm releasing the pressure.

This isn't a manifesto on how I'm going to finish all the personal projects on my plate in short order. This isn't a promise to kick out the purity survey, randompixel, underblog, metacookie, more aoliza, and all the rest in one week. This is a reclamation of my life. This is good.

So what? This isn't a plan, it's just an action. I'm not going to wait up 'till midnight on Tuesday to read The Onion. I'm not going to read CNN before my morning shower. I'm not going to compare Wired articles to News.com. I'm not going to karmawhore off slashdot or Kuro5hin. I'm bringing my net umbrella in a little tighter, shunting off as many tributaries as I can. I'm not going to ping people on IM just because I saw them 'walk in the door.' When I finish a task and ask myself 'what now' the answer isn't going to check if a new story is up at macosrumors or the-gadgeteer.

I got in this business/lifestyle because after too long I realized that my desire to know is surpassed only by my desire to make and it's time my actions reflect that throughout my life. It's a shame that it took so long, and such a severe case of diminishing returns on surfing/enlightenment to recognize that. Maybe that was the end lesson after all.

I'm going to find balance before the teeter-totter breaks in half.

This is a good thing.