Journaling, blogs, and… love letters?
Ever since I’ve had use of reason I can remember wanting to try something like this. A digital diary of sorts. I have always had the compulsion to just write. When I was very young I had fantasies of aliens touching down on earth and discovering one of my journals. In that world, they would use my musings as a way to study how the human brain worked (I guess humans were extinct in this fantasy world lol). As fun as writing for an audience seemed to my little brain, it was not sustainable. Throughout my adolescence I tried many forms of journaling, all to no avail. No matter how many pens I was gifted, or how many notebooks I begged for in Marshall’s, I simply could not fill a notebook. I have always had the same problem. I get lost in the semantics of it all. For reasons that I don’t have the energy to dwell in right now, I feel the overwhelming need to have a theme for any and every journal I touch. Is it going to be a sad journal, or a happy journal? Maybe it would be good to have a notebook for keeping recipes! Language study. Plant journal. Meditation journal. Period tracker.
My brain would go on and on and on and on and on… only for me to run out of things to write about ten minutes in and end up abandoning them all. Their fates ranged from remaining untouched for all eternity to getting filled with my disjointed thoughts, verification codes, random arithmetic practice, and story ideas that died before being properly formed.
I found MySpace fascinating back when the internet was novel and I was far too young to have computer access in the ways I did. In the ever-expanding, and yet stagnating, internet of today I have found myself wanting to start a blog. After they went out of style and became a dying breed, naturally. I’ve slacked on actually doing this because I’m afraid the same issues will come up in my head about needing some sort of identity (Is this what happens to a person after their entire internet experience becomes overrun by content creation for profit? Maybe so.) Also, honestly, because of how hard it is to find blogs in general. Do you know how much I had to research to find blogs that are not for profit? You probably do if you’re reading this. I assume the pool of people in my shoes is probably pretty sizable. Anyways…
My insistence on making any of my writings make sense astounds me. I guess the current state of online creatives as well as that old fantasy of being “found” has stuck with me because, seriously, who am I trying to impress? Why do I find it so difficult to keep putting words on paper? Who cares what I’m writing if nobody is going to read it anyway, you know?
Matter of fact, I could, and almost did, get on a soap box about why that would never happen because I’m so mediocre and boring but I won’t! I know, I know, I’m so strong. I’m trying to not be so mean to myself right now. Actually, I sat down and wrote most of this a few weeks ago as a way to try to fight the man (my depression) and move my thoughts away from their often destructive nature. I’m sitting down and transcribing it here today for similar reasons lol hi.
It’s honestly pretty fun seeing the words fill up a blank screen, and don’t get me started on the sound of my keyboard. Mmmmmmmm. I think maybe I was meant to be a secretary. The universe knows I’m not built to be an influencer, oh my god.
Although they aren’t all that bad sometimes. The day I wrote the original draft for this I was having a loser-depression-spiral-dooom-scroll moment and a random instagram reel told me to not dwell on things and instead to “write a love letter to something you love.” That sounded stupid so I did it. I made a little zine with six mini love letters to things I love.
It was pretty difficult to churn out the first three or so, but it turns out positive actions work or something because love was flowing out of every pore (ew) and I quickly filled the little pages. Then I wrote this draft since an object in motion stays in motion and I better seize any shred of light and love I can manage to get.