Are You Ready For Some Garbage???


It’s happened enough times where I shouldn’t even bother explaining myself. I keep failing to get on this site and write. And I’m all out of excuses, because my mind is literally exploding with things to tell you and has been for quite some time.

So let’s not get into the plethora of why’s and just keep it pushing. But REALLY pushing.

I’m not talking like a cat slowly pushing a glass off a table.

I’m not talking like you push an old lady along to the other side of the street.

Nah, we’re pushing out BABIES.

We’re pushing ENVELOPES.

What am I even talking about? I already lost my damn point…

Well that kinda is my point, actually. In that, this pushing along means I am going to seriously commit to writing more often.

All of my mentors throughout the years have advised me to write every single day. Whether or not I feel like it, whether or not I have anything to write about. The advice didn’t even come exclusively from writers. So it’s just some general knowledge thing that I’ve ignored for years I guess.

Well, I got the message, finally. So here’s the deal. I am going to be writing more posts.

They may be short. They may be all over the place. They may end abruptly. They may be garbage. Many will most likely be garbage.

But I will be writing and getting my thoughts out without letting my worries keep me from publishing. That’s what’s been keeping me silent. I don’t know how to close in an article, or I feel like I’ve been really serious lately and want to wait to post when I have something comical to say.

Nope, fuck that. If I thought it, and wanted to share it, it’s getting shared. For better or for worse.

So brace yourselves and I apologize in advance.

I Had A Point Once, But Hear Me Out Anyway

It’s exciting to be back in a writing mind. I’m eager to get my thoughts out, and I look forward to the dialogue my posts may open up.

But the mind to write isn’t the same mind to publish, and regaining that drive has been frustrating, to say the least. When I’m not meeting you all here, I’m meeting myself in my head. I write in my notebooks pretty often, here’s a look into what that looks like:

These pages are a visual interpretation of how I think. Colorful, all over the place, outside the lines, too much to even fit the boundaries of each sheet, and not even always in English. It’s hard enough for me to turn actual blog ideas into a coherent post, so I can’t say much of this book gets transferred here.

But I woke up this morning, drank some water, visited my notebook for a fresh new page, and wrote myself into a little mental breakdown. After I had a good cry and washed my face, I thought I might share some of what I wrote.

For a little context, I’ve been frustrated with myself and how easily I throw my plans aside for others’ sake when it’s not necessary or even noble to do. This constant self sacrifice has been eating at me in different ways and as I — eh, let me just quote the book and we can go from there.

Why are you so willing to hold yourself back? And also, why can’t I just cry? Sitting on the brink of myself is physically jarring. It hurts. The pain is strange.. It’s like being attacked by an internal black hole. Just an aggressive pulling, denying my escape, preventing the release, blocking the healing. No motive, just there. Tormenting.

I had a point to share all of this, but honestly the struggle to open up in this way took all of my focus away. It feels important still, so please excuse the scattered nature of this post.

All I can do at this point is ramble a little and hope it goes somewhere, so bare with me. I don’t mean to continue the same energy as the last post. You guys come here to laugh most of the time, and I’ll get to that. I want to get back to that.

But maybe it was that perceived pressure to be light and quirky and witty that led me to isolate myself when I felt none of those things. I’d rather be real with you than to not speak at all.

I was blown away at the reception of my last entry, actually. It wasn’t easy being that honest, and I really appreciate all of the responses I received, and the support and love. I don’t necessarily write with anything in mind besides clearing my head and shouting into the void about any and everything. So when my writing is actually relatable or helps in any way, even to just one person reading, it surprises and humbles me.

The more I write and share, the more I get to see the multidimensional nature of people, as well as myself, and it changes my worldview more and more each time. I feel empowered, I feel more forgiving and empathetic, I feel more curious, I feel more unaffected by fuckery, I feel hopeful.

I don’t really know how to wrap up this trash fire of a blog post. But hey, I hope any of you reading struggling to find that release from whatever finally snap. Because yeah, I woke up this morning and promptly fell apart, but I also got this written, drank water, moisturized my hair, and I’m gonna finish crocheting a scarf when I’m done typing this up on my phone(I’ll fix formatting issues when I get to a computer by the way) all before 11am! I can’t remember the last time I was this productive. Snap the fuck out, safely and constructively, but do it. Get there. Bye.