Do you ever start to write a post, but never finish it? Because I do…
Often, I write posts in school, writing sentences or expandable bullet points on my phone in those small, silent moments amidst the chaos. Sometimes, like now, I write in form — like our registration period —, as it’s half-an-hour long, and I’m not overly friendly with anyone in particular in my form. By break, however, when I reread this over (in about two hours time), I will undoubtedly delete this post-start, because I’ll think it’s dull, and you won’t want to read a post from me, talking about posting on my blog in a post on my blog. It’s boring, it’s stupid, and it’s me; it’s bloody depressing, really.
I always promised myself that I’d write posts about whatever, whenever — this is my blog, after all, and it’s about me and how I feel. But somewhere, in the back of my mind, there is one thing niggling away: what if they don’t like it. What if it’s boring, or stupid, or doesn’t make sense? What if it’s not interesting, or if they simply don’t want to know? In my heart, I know that you will read this: you have always been the most supportive group of people I”ve ever, ever come across, and I will never be able to repay you for that. But all the same, I’m somewhat scared that one day, one thing I post will just make you all go: `uh, no… bye-bye, L — that was shit”‘. And, if you do, I’d be lost. I’d be so lost without you, and without my blog.
Whenever I read articles like `10 Ways to Run a Good Blog”‘, I always see something about keeping to one topic, or one mood. My blog doesn’t really follow that rule — you might have noticed, I don’t know. There’s a reason for that, though: this blog is me. This isn’t fake, or forced-smiles — it’s every single little part of me, rolled together into one confused collection of words and sentences, merging together to form a person — me. When I’m sad, I don’t start writing a comedy post, because it’s not real, and it’s not how I’m feeling. Equally, I don’t just store up sad posts for when I’m busy (and happy), or need an ego-boost; they go up as and when I feel that way, because that’s real, and that’s me.
I hope you don’t mind me writing: it’s not like it’s been a long time — not at all. But, whenever I write, you read and respond, and I’m grateful for that. And I love you.