I struggle to keep personal blogs and for the longest time I thought it was because I was too lazy to maintain the demanding upkeep, but now I know the real reason: I don’t like writing autobiographically. I don’t mind if I show up in my work indirectly, but to sit down and write of my own existence bores me. Maybe I’m too private; maybe I just don’t have the eloquence to make my day to day life seem interesting. It seems pretentious to want to even display my life in an interesting manner. I read other personal blogs and feel a kind of envy like when you see someone looking good in the same top. I wonder if their perfect string of words comes from knowing themselves or knowing how to present themselves; it may be a case of both.
I tell myself it’s good to keep a blog simply for the memories. Write your thoughts, just to see what kinds of thoughts you were having. It helps to show you how you’ve changed and all the ways you’ve stayed the same. But the moment it clicks that someone besides myself might see it, I suddenly become manipulative of how I want the world to see me. No, it’s not that I want them to like me. If it were only that I’d write about myself all the time. It’s my need to be understood. For a writer to be asked to be understood is to tread into dangerous territory. Life is about interpretation and perception. How you judge me is based largely on your own personal experiences and interactions with the world. If you read someone’s writing, you’re more likely learning about yourself than you are about them.
This knowledge stifles me. It keeps the words under my skin, like my veins that pulse and are racked with feeling but are invisible to the outside world. I said I’d try to share my thoughts this year, but I’m not interested in my own thoughts enough to force myself to share them on a constant basis. Additionally, ghost writing killed the art of self expression for me. When you’re trained to write without giving yourself away, it becomes difficult to tap into your own voice.
However, that is one of the reasons for this blog: to find my own voice again. Because despite not having an immediate interest in my ongoing thoughts (or being too consumed with them to translate them) I do want to undertake an exploration of my heart. Writing isn’t just a mental activity. It can free you from feelings, bring you closer to a deeper understanding of what moves your soul, and on some occasions save you. Writing has saved me. It brought me back into the light; it made me appreciate the dark. It gave me a reason to connect with my heart. So for that reason, I keep on writing; maybe not autobiographically or even introspectively but conversationally with my own heart.