Here I am, 7 am in the morning, sitting in front of my mother's laptop, pondering what should I write to explain about my absence this past couple of months. As another thought, that I didn’t have any drink with me entered my thought, I realize something, that might came across as selfish, that; hey, I don’t owe anyone but myself an explanation.
Which is, incredibly selfish, one might say so. But by the end of the day, this blog is another space of mine, a personal space, or at least; that's what it supposed to be, until I got trapped, tangled in what we called 'blogger cliché', and looking back my past entries I began questioning myself; just who were you trying to emulate, self?
Simply put, they didn't feel like me, that writing style, that attempt to be a cheery and upbeat twenty something girl who enjoys candle, routinely slathers body lotion, and have a structured life, it's not me. But maybe what got me the most is that writing style. is. not. me.
I write like this; ramble-y, so many comas in between and might annoy the hell out of anyone who's used to flowy sentences (what is flowy sentences, even?). I go round and round, making unnecessary long description about how someone's voice is rich, like honey dips, gold like sun that sits on morning dew. I write nonsensical, my thought goes everywhere and where, and return to point one. I did it well, incredibly so on my other writing outlet, but not here.
To be completly, and painfully honest; I never feel satisfied at this blog, and despite my denials, like; a year old denial, it's because I keep comparing myself to other bloggers. See? That blogger cliché, again. This little space structured out of HTMLs and JPGs is supposed to be mine, but reading my past entries, there's this strange sense of detachment.
My favorite bloggers, with no doubt. And that is so wrong in so many levels, because I realize by the end of the day what I love about them is how personal their blogs are, it feels like they are talking to me themselves. They have their own writing style, their own photography, none of them are exact carbon copy of one another, and they're supposed to be who I aspire to be.
But it's a mistake, that everyone easily fell into when they first started this. The sin called comparison, and ironic turn of wanting to be better, brought me here, and here I am, with my own voice, with my own writing style (which you have noticed by now; very ramble-y, 180 degrees turn of my past entries), ready to tear it all down.
Enter 'Dear Lunatics', Changing my blog url is a huge decision, it's a long winding steps, too, but I'm willing to take these baby steps. It's a long process, like learning to brew the right coffee, like discovering yourself. Like waking up in the morning knowing you have to tackle the day but your limbs are too weary, and you are not ready, but your head is ringing sirene of; get up, you failure! Everybody can, why cannot you?
I will no longer force myself to write about what I do not want to write. I will not force myself to make content calendar to fill. While some of you might screech in horror; "NO! CONTENT CALENDAR IS LIFE!" , I think it's a step that I need. For now. The key. For now. Too many things are happening with me this year, as I've addressed a couple of times in this blog (which is the only explanation I could give you for now). I'm still trying to find an even ground for myself, and if that included walking away from the safe structure that I've been standing on all these times, then so be it.
There's no promise I can give as to when I will make a comeback, instead, I can give it that I'll be falling out of the regular blogger train and hop onto the slow blogger ones. That’s it, everyone. Have a nice Sunday!
And I will make myself a cup of coffee. By the way, my mom suddenly announced she had a hairdresses appointment for me in 30 minutes, so, another to-do list un-checked.
But you know, what? It's fine.
Which is, incredibly selfish, one might say so. But by the end of the day, this blog is another space of mine, a personal space, or at least; that's what it supposed to be, until I got trapped, tangled in what we called 'blogger cliché', and looking back my past entries I began questioning myself; just who were you trying to emulate, self?
Simply put, they didn't feel like me, that writing style, that attempt to be a cheery and upbeat twenty something girl who enjoys candle, routinely slathers body lotion, and have a structured life, it's not me. But maybe what got me the most is that writing style. is. not. me.
I write like this; ramble-y, so many comas in between and might annoy the hell out of anyone who's used to flowy sentences (what is flowy sentences, even?). I go round and round, making unnecessary long description about how someone's voice is rich, like honey dips, gold like sun that sits on morning dew. I write nonsensical, my thought goes everywhere and where, and return to point one. I did it well, incredibly so on my other writing outlet, but not here.
To be completly, and painfully honest; I never feel satisfied at this blog, and despite my denials, like; a year old denial, it's because I keep comparing myself to other bloggers. See? That blogger cliché, again. This little space structured out of HTMLs and JPGs is supposed to be mine, but reading my past entries, there's this strange sense of detachment.
Back to my previous question; who am I trying to emulate?
My favorite bloggers, with no doubt. And that is so wrong in so many levels, because I realize by the end of the day what I love about them is how personal their blogs are, it feels like they are talking to me themselves. They have their own writing style, their own photography, none of them are exact carbon copy of one another, and they're supposed to be who I aspire to be.
But it's a mistake, that everyone easily fell into when they first started this. The sin called comparison, and ironic turn of wanting to be better, brought me here, and here I am, with my own voice, with my own writing style (which you have noticed by now; very ramble-y, 180 degrees turn of my past entries), ready to tear it all down.
Enter 'Dear Lunatics', Changing my blog url is a huge decision, it's a long winding steps, too, but I'm willing to take these baby steps. It's a long process, like learning to brew the right coffee, like discovering yourself. Like waking up in the morning knowing you have to tackle the day but your limbs are too weary, and you are not ready, but your head is ringing sirene of; get up, you failure! Everybody can, why cannot you?
I will no longer force myself to write about what I do not want to write. I will not force myself to make content calendar to fill. While some of you might screech in horror; "NO! CONTENT CALENDAR IS LIFE!" , I think it's a step that I need. For now. The key. For now. Too many things are happening with me this year, as I've addressed a couple of times in this blog (which is the only explanation I could give you for now). I'm still trying to find an even ground for myself, and if that included walking away from the safe structure that I've been standing on all these times, then so be it.
There's no promise I can give as to when I will make a comeback, instead, I can give it that I'll be falling out of the regular blogger train and hop onto the slow blogger ones. That’s it, everyone. Have a nice Sunday!
And I will make myself a cup of coffee. By the way, my mom suddenly announced she had a hairdresses appointment for me in 30 minutes, so, another to-do list un-checked.
But you know, what? It's fine.
Be First to Post Comment !
Post a Comment