This is an attempt of free-writing. The words just start flowing and I may ramble, my paragraphs may fail to make sense or work in a coherent, chronological order, but this is my heart and soul poured into a post. You might opt not to read it, in which case enjoy your day, but if you do prepare for perhaps the most raw post you will have ever read on this blog. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I find blogging really difficult. There’s nothing more daunting then seeing a blank screen and having nothing to write about, nor is there anything as frustrating as finding that anything you do write is lifeless and dull – certainly not captivating enough to capture and immerse an audience.
I have taken so many different approaches over the last two years I have spent blogging, and I can say that some have worked for me but I shall never be the blogger I want to be if I cannot get over the initial fear of writing the first word. Because, honestly, that’s all it is: once I have my words down, the rest of it flows naturally. Granted, what I write may not be of amazing quality but what’s important is that I am writing.
I think, more than anything, I have too many expectations of myself as a blogger. I spend countless of precious moments deciding on a title that I feel might attract an audience, or struggle finding the correct synonym for ‘that word’. I forget that what I write need not be perfect and, if I were to read back on my first few blog posts, I can see that I am improving and that is all that matters. I forget that I need not have an audience to write. And, if someone wants to read my writing, they will. I cannot trick or lure people into reading my thoughts and, sometimes I think, why would I? Blogging is such a personal experience that it feels bizarre that I would want to share it with the world. Embarrassing almost. At the same time, there are days where what I want more than anything is to make an influence in this world and leave a mark – preferably with my words – and I realise that blogging is a perfect way to do so. And so I am disheartened when I realise that my words are not touching people in the way I wish them to. You see, my life is a perfect contradiction; an oxymoron; a paradox; a juxtaposition.
So, what am I looking for in terms of blogging? Am I looking to educate/entertain myself or others, or both? I think my goal has always been to do both and whilst I know I am certainly doing the prior, it pains me to think that the possibility that I am not doing the latter is incredibly high. I think that, more than anything, I am looking for somewhere to pour my heart and soul and share that with the world – because that’s the closest I feel I will ever be to making a change in this world. I’m wrong. I can do so much better, I just need to learn to believe it. I can make the change I want to see in this world, I can do that because I have the ideas, I just need the motivation. Promise me this, promise me that you’ll help me to find that.
I need to stop forgetting that people are reading this and people will potentially judge me. I need to forget that my stats aren’t as high as they used to be and remember that, you know what, statistics don’t matter anyway! They are just numbers, at the end of the day, and are no more than the number of times someone has visited my blog. Those views don’t mean anything. The readers do. The readers are what matter because they are more than numbers, they read and they learn and they are entertained and they accept my words for what they are and expect no more. I shouldn’t be blogging for the statistics, I should be blogging for the people and, ultimately, I should be blogging for myself.
If I believe that I can touch people with my words, is it not about time I start proving that? To myself, to my competitors, to my readers. Self-doubt is common and I always thought of it as a somewhat positive thing as it stops me from being arrogant but now I realise that it is thwarting more than just my arrogance, it’s thwarting my success.
As I write this, I realise that, as I feel my eyes welling with tears, I shall never achieve my dreams of being a writer if I don’t believe in myself. Who cares if others don’t believe in me? I could prove them wrong. I can prove them wrong. I will prove them wrong. And I won’t do it for them, I will do it for myself. I will do it so I can wake up and do a job that I want to do; a job that makes me happy. I will do it so I can make my future successful, so that I can achieve my dream of leaving a mark on peoples lives with my words and potentially have the opportunists to explore more than just my words: activism, entertainment, charity.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I know that the above is hardly coherent at all and the words will probably feel stilted as you read them but I can promise you this, I have poured my heart and soul into this. I have edited nothing; this is raw. I have sat behind my laptop, my favourite playlist screaming from my headphones, and I have typed until I feel my thoughts have been appropriately expressed. I like free-writing. I think I ought to take to this more often…
I’m listening to…
White Blank Page by Mumford & Sons
Seagull by Saturday Sun
Maybe, Maybe. by Cam Nacson
First Defeat by Noah Gunderson
9 Crimes by Damien Rice
Babylon by David Gray