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.
When I write, it's usually something that was bursting to come out of me. I don't know if I ever actually have anything interesting to say, but I like to say I have a way of wording it interestingly, even if it's boring. But I just write whatever is at the forefront of my mind.
ReplyDeleteWrite what you want to write about. Trying to avoid sounding like someone else gives them more influence over your life than just doing your own thing, no matter who thinks you're imitating them.
ReplyDeleteAnd you will never be like Carrie Bradshaw. For a number of reasons.
A blog is a personal voice in the Internet wilderness. It is an oasis for some. It is a desert for others. What matters is writing your view of life.
ReplyDeleteMy blog is sometimes too preachy. Other times it is naive and even overly self important. I write often of should-be's and broken skies. What matters is the act of writing. If even one person improves from my meanderings into Christianity and Zen philosophy, the blog is a success. If I learn even one thing, it was a success. Just write for your own discovery, even if the path is worn by countless feet.