| layout | title |
|---|---|
default |
but why |
why am i doing this?
no really, why?
i can't count the number of blogs i've started and how many resolutions i've made to write in those blogs. i think the longest streak was no more than a few weeks.
what stops me?
there's inertia, there's the long list of books and magazines that i want to get thru, there's now a dog i'd rather be playing with, there's the backlog of films and shows i need to binge, and so on and so forth...
but if i were being honest with myself, it's because there's always something easier.
i don't write because i don't think i have anything to say.
i don't write because i don't think i have anything new to say.
i don't write because... how banal, how pedestrian, how... mediocre.
how futile.
even this fear, this self doubt is so boring to talk about. it places me solidly in the population of almost all humans who feel this way.
but maybe that's ok. maybe it's ok to be average, to be one of many, because that means you aren't alone.
so why am i doing this? i'm doing this to be heard by the only person who's looking and judging.
i'm doing this for me.