I’m writing something bad to make way for something good.
This post is here to pop the cork, to detangle my brain. To alleviate both myself and the reader from any pretenses or expectations for what’s going to live here.
I’m regularly consumed with daydreams of blogging, but every time I sit down to write, I’m crippled. No idea is good enough, no draft worthy of revisiting, and I end up staring at my computer paralyzed or deflecting to Instagram.
Because there’s been so much time between posts, I’ve manifested a (presumably non-existent) belief that everything I share needs to be meaningful or important or long or polished. That the weight of the posts should be worthy of the distance between them. And that pressure is antithetical to what made me love blogging in the first place – the immediacy of it, the nonchalance of publishing because no one was reading and it was “just the internet.”
I’d like to get that feeling back. That sense of courage or naivety or discipline that yielded a consistent writing streak and willingness to reveal myself. I’ve got a list of post ideas longer than a CVS receipt, and a draft folder weighing heavy on my mind. I’m creating this as a personal reminder that I’m not forcing anyone to read what I write, just as no one is forcing me to write a certain way.
My greatest emotional challenges currently lie in reducing self-inflicted guilt, embracing the uphill, and enjoying failure. This seems like a good space to work on all of that.
So I’m just leaving this here as a starter pistol. A cannonball that might turn into a belly flop. A way to grow or maybe to fail, but aren’t those intrinsically intertwined?
I’m posting a shitty blog so I can be less afraid to post shitty ones in the future.
Thanks for sticking with me. Check back soon. Or don’t.