The Difficulties of Recording My Thoughts

I have a confession to make.  I am not good at this blogging thing.  If you have been reading this blog from the beginning, which (with one exception) you have probably not been, then you already know that I am not good at this.  If not, here is my warning.  My posts are way too long.  I don’t want to make them shorter thought.  There is so much out there that needs to be said.  Everything has a context, and context makes for a richer experience.  I want to give the richest experience possible.

I’m not exactly looking for readers.  I was a writing major in college, and I discovered that sharing my work with other people leads only to heartache.  Every writing major is both afraid to be hurt their friend/classmate’s feeling and terrified that said friend/classmate is a better writer.  It makes for some pretty awful (and contradictory) critiques.  I fear that actively seeking a readership will be a repeat of a college nightmare I have tried very hard to forget.  Besides, most of the people I know (again, with one exception) don’t particularly want to read blogs anyway.

There is another reason for blogging even though I am not good at it.  Every November I feel guilty that I neglect to write a novel for NaNoWriMo.  I started this blog this month because I thought that maybe writing every day would alleviate the guilt I feel.  I feel less guilty, although not completely absolved.  Perhaps if I wrote every day rather than most days I would feel better.  My last post could have been a novella all on its own if it were fiction.

Finally, one last confession.  The reason I am not good at blogging is the same reason I am not good at being in therapy.  I don’t want to talk about myself, and I hate telling stories.  In fact, I talk relatively little.  This post is really painful to write.  Sure, all my posts have been from a first person perspective, but the posts are fundamentally about other things: sport, politics, television, LGBT issues, etc.  These things orbit my life but keep a respectful distance.

So why am I telling you this?  Well, dear reader, I feel we have begun a relationship of sorts.  If you have stuck with me thus far, I do feel like I want to tell you a little about myself and where I am coming from.  You will not however, know much more about who I am as a person–at least not from me explicitly.  This seems only fair.  I will most likely never know about you, but you are doing me a service by reading what I write.  I appreciate it, so I thought I should at least introduce myself to you.


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