vulnerability

I have been pressuring myself a lot lately, to write for this blog I created. I chose to show my face and allow some of my friends to follow me. I am not at the point where I am comfortable sharing my thoughts with everyone I know, and I even find myself regretting the handful of people I did tell about this public journal of sorts.

I have been writing since I was very young, creating stories, keeping a journal and soon writing little excerpts on a hand-me-down laptop and saving them, never letting anyone read them. I wrote on my computer when my thoughts were too fast for a pencil. When I felt that my inspiration was on fire and hot. Typing was the easiest way to get something off of my chest.

My writing took flight freshman year of high school when my English teacher taught me so much about a subject that I would grow to love and make my major in college.

I made mistakes, and learned something that is crucial to being a writer. Being original and looking into yourself first, instead of others for worth and inspiration is the most important thing when writing. Don’t compare yourself to others, no matter how much better they seem in your mind. I learned this the hard way, but it needed to happen because now I know. I still remind myself of it very often.

Now, with high school done, and five journals to account for it, I started ‘Lonely vessel’ to reach out to people who may be feeling alone in life; like I find myself feeling sometimes. I created this blog when four years of my life had come to a close and new beginnings awaited me; and the unknown. I want to keep writing these next four years, but I want to take another step forward, and have others read my thoughts and fears and anything I have to say at two in the morning. My naked thoughts will be here for anyone to see.

I want to have the same honesty and depths that an anonymous writer would have. I don’t want to have this pressure of what others may think of me, especially the ones I know who are reading this. These words are who I am, so, it makes me very vulnerable indeed. It’s like taking a piece of my heart and soul and interpreting what I feel with letters and words and punctuation.

I have really been trying these past months to do new things, and face my fears. This is a fear I’ll face gladly, but slowly. It’ll take some time, like most things in life that are worth anything.

So, if you’re reading this, hello. I acknowledge you, I am intimidated, but I’m not afraid.


nicco

Listening to:

Gymnopedies 1. Lent et douloureux

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