I have a confession to make.
Since writing about my “relationship” with my father (which you can read here), I’ve had a writer’s block.
I made this blog to be creative, practice writing, and unpack my baggage, in the hopes it would heal me, and perhaps offer help to others.
Since doing that post, I am not sure what to write. I still have baggage; of course I do, but that was such a big part of me for so many years, that now it’s out there, I feel…..not empty, but not myself. Half-molted.
I know the inspiration will come again. Creativity is a muscle, as they say.
Maybe I’m (probably I’m) overthinking. I could treat this like a truly personal blog, and just talk about whatever nonsense pops into my head. Who says I need categories, faithfully posted on a set schedule?
No one, that’s who. I’m the one footing the bill for my hosting fees. I’m beholden to no one.
Part of me feels that’s arrogant, though. If I was some sort of public figure, then some people would read any inane thoughts I post, but the average person is rarely that interesting, no matter what they think.
Including me.
Still, I have to give myself some credit. I can see how my writing has improved since the beginning of this year.
It’s something.
And it’s enough to keep me moving forward.
Note: The title of this entry is the result of autocorrect, and I decided to just go with it.
2 Comments
Mandi
You don’t have to write to for anyone but yourself. Do we enjoy reading your thoughts? Of course. But by no means do you HAVE to do it.
sirglio frei
You have mentioned very interesting points! ps decent web site. “We simply rob ourselves when we make presents to the dead.” by Publilius Syrus.