This morning, what felt like late night to me, it suddenly seemed like a very good idea to write another entry. Mind you, this is at nine-o-clock after pulling an all nighter because we insomniacs go to bed no sooner than 7 am.
I crash at 12:15 pm. I wake up two hours later.
I can't breathe. The asthma medication doesn't seem to be working. It's been weeks and I haven't been fully able to to function the way a person who has oxygen to the brain should be able to. It's gotten to the point of past uncomfortable, but painful: as right now I'd rather be writing in my journal. But I don't have the energy to pick up a pen and form the shapes of the letters. I don't have the energy to write about whatever it is that I'm truly emotional about. I don't have the energy to really assess this time in my life, which by the way, is a roller coaster that I'm not always aware that I'm riding: I moved out for the rest of the summer – the day before yesterday. I'm looking for a job. What do the next couple of months hold in store for me? What kind of person am I now going to become? That's too much for a suffocating person who has only slept two hours. It's much easier to listen to the Beatles and type as if I really care what this entry is going to be about.
Is my blog for me, or for other people? Sure, I want them to be interested – it's just a matter of coming up with interesting things to write about. I read other, cooler, more creative people's blogs and think: “wow, what a cool thing to blog about.” I also have plenty of these moments when talking with friends, and I have a thought like: “I want to blog about relationships, because I can show just how unique my view of this is,” but then I think, “how many people blog about relationships? A lot. How many people don't care what another person thinks about romantic relationships? A lot. Or else – I could just become everything I hate, a Carry Bradshaw.”
I have these kinds of conversations with myself. I don't care. I think about my purposes for keeping public entries. It's not to give people something to think about and ponder – no after-school-special-words-of-the-day-think-outside-the-box for me, thank you very much. That's the thing about me. I often like to write against what everyone thinks all writers should do. I don't want to have a change in my protagonist. I don't want my story to end to your satisfaction, I want it to end to mine. And I don't want my blog to have a point. I don't want anything to have a point. What a terrible writer I must be at heart. But these are just the things I want. Everyone has to go against their own nature in some way. I'll know I'll give in in the end. I promise I'll have more meat to this blog sooner or later. There will be more of me, the real me, and what I really think about Important Things.
Where was I? Oh yeah. I also sometimes don't know how to end entries.
