I’m terrible with journals. I think too much, but can’t write too much down before I get disinterested and move on to the next thing. I just know that I could really come up with something worthwhile, but I am so not an “activator” type, and end up flopping before I’ve gotten very far. Oh, how dependent we can be on other people!
There are a couple key elements at war with each other inside me right now. The desire to publish a blog, have a product of something that I’ve done physically existing (or digitally… same thing.)… and the voice in my head telling me that what I think/would say about a thing really doesn’t matter beyond my immediate circle of life. Blogs, to me, are like the private journals that we write all our deepest, most personal thoughts down on… and then leave them on the table at the coffee shop on “accident” so that people will come across it and then, in that little way, we will be better known.
(without seeming quite so needy for attention… after all, it was just an accident, right? We’ll tell ourselves that as we’re “staking out” our “private journal” from our car parked right outside the coffee shop. Binoculars, stat! As soon as someone appears to be dealing with the moral dilemma of what to do with the journal… whether to open it up and read any of it, or just to hand it to the barista to stick into a lost n found… we hope that someone else will actually care enough to be nosy. )
But isn’t that what we all want in one way or another in any relationship? For someone else to care enough to put their own itinerary on pause, turn their head toward us, and genuinely smile at us. And not a creepy smile, either. Not like they’re about to act out their favorite American Horror story scene… (I’m looking at you, Clown… damn clowns… … poor, professional, innocent clowns in real life… I can’t tell you how many years it’s been since I could have a conversation with someone where, when the topic of clowns is brought up, the immediate followup from everyone involved isn’t “ugh, clowns creep me the Eff out!” Poor, real clowns… no wonder they’re so sad face… but anyways! Rabbit trail alert.)
For fear of becoming too similar to Bran the Builder… I’m going to cut short this wall of text.