On Just Getting the Thoughts Out

I regret to inform that I will likely lament often about this struggle. But please just accept that you are subscribed to a publication written by a woman who has no clue why she is writing or if there is any value to her thoughts. A woman who has more drafts than published posts and is positively sick of the lack of confidence in my work.

I will continue to take up space, but not because I think I belong. I feel like the William Hung of writing. Just she bang-ing all over the place. But hey, he had a great time, and I intend to as well.

I’ve made writing way too hard for myself by trying to match what I think writing is…when I don’t really care what writing is, because I just want to write how I write. So I’m gonna just do that. Posts will be short. Posts will be long. Posts will be cohesive or chaotic with an abrupt end.

I need to create. I need to write out my thoughts. As much as I love being an artistic individual, sometimes it feels like a curse or a disease. It has to come out. I need an outlet. I suppose much like trauma needing to find a way out of your body lest it sit there and fester causing problems, the urge to create feels kind of similar. I will surely go mad without working within my mediums. I am more irritable, I can’t focus, I get depressed and have no motivation. I need to art. I need to accept and own the fact that this is who I am. And I am not in the space to proofread and revise. I’m not looking at this before I post it, for fear I never hit publish after beginning to comb it to bits.