This is the nth time I’ve created a new blog and the nth time I’ve had to make the obligatory introduction post.
Why is this the case, you might ask. I’ll answer that in a while.. (if I ever actually publish this post.)
Well you see, I have a long history of never finishing anything. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a non-committer – both to myself and to different aspects of my life. But I also think it’s because I expect too much from myself while constantly dreading the doom that has not come upon me yet.
My friends sometimes ask me why I haven’t been writing.
“Oh you have a case of writer’s block?”
“Yeah, I think so..” Lie.
“Why is that?”
“Nothing’s just coming to me.” Lie.
The truth is… my brain is a box of thoughts and memories about to burst with things and people I’d rather not discuss on the internet (or to anyone else for that matter) and I can not for the life of me dare open it, I’m still trying to clean up the mess it left the last time I picked up a pen and poured my heart out.
(This draft actually stayed here for about 2 weeks before I had enough motivation to reopen it.)
There are two things I’m afraid of..
One: I don’t have much to write about (the really juicy, interesting stuff).
Mainly because I don’t do much these days. I still blow off my friends, the ones that are actually here and not a plane ride away (I’m going to surprise them next month!)..please don’t write me off as a righteous snob just yet, maybe I’ll explain the why later – much, much later.
The one time I decided to go on a little adventure to break the routine, I got harassed by a horde of despicable human beings in the guise of teenage boys.
(Not doing that again.)
Two: Writing forces me to deal with things I’d rather not deal with.
Like most people, I find that writing reveals who I am. And that scares me.
Blatant honesty terrifies me.
Dealing with feelings and thoughts and people and life in general make my knees weak. But I am so tired of being scared.
So I guess I’m going to at least try and publish one draft in this new blog (again).
Here goes nothing.
And oh, hi!
My name is Pearl but you can call me Cuckooface.