When I started blogging, I wanted to explore myself more, namely my feelings and my my creativity. Not all posts are entirely self indulgent, but a majority are, and I like it that way. I find myself most pleased when I am writing for myself and just editing it to make sense to other people.
When I started, there were still a bunch of things I was unclear on. We think we know ourselves but when we keep digging into our motivations, we discover they aren’t always exactly what we think. There are things from our childhood unresolved. There are secret desires and complexes that disguise themselves as other desires and fears that disguise themselves as other fears.
There’s a million angles to come at something from and so I don’t think I will ever be done writing but I definetly think I’ve hit a bit of a wall when it comes to sharing about myself.
I uhderstand my deeper motivation, my fears and desires, so much more than when I started. I’ve cleaned up a lot of the mess and I’ve become an emotional adult, something I don’t see a whole lot of in society.
My original goal was to share fiction that allowed me yo express myself anonymously. Due to multiple factors, fiction not doing as well as essays on Hive, an attempt to get over my fear of attention, and my desire to build a more personal relationship and provide some kind of “self help”; I ended up sharing a whole lot about myself here.
For a long time I tried to force myself to be transparent with things so I could loosen their grip on me. I showed almost everything I could.
I still have things to untangled but here’s the thing: I don’t want to share everything so publically anymore. I still want to share but I don’t want to be so personal and direct anymore. I’ve reached the limit of what I feel makes sense for me to share
It’s not a lack of inspiration, but a realization that I am an artist, not an influencer and wanting to make everything in alignment with that.
Trying to emulatr an influencer, I tried to be as relateable as I possibly could without being insincere. I had this idea that I could realy dig hard into authenticity and make it akin to a “brand”. This was because I thought my process could help otther people.
I don’t think I am really all that relatable though and at a I often realize I am overexplaining everything in order to be relatable. I don’t like overexplaining these things and I find that overexplaining takes away from the impact I would like to create.
There are other ways to create impact. You can say radical things and try to used their most polar opinions to fire them up. Or you can focus on a very small niche. Neither of these feel genuine to me. I seek to create a balance to the radical polarization that is taking place now, and I want to keep my focus broad enough.
When it comes down to it, I would like to get out of my head and into my heart, into my 5 senses, into the wonder of a 5 year old. Too much analyzing gets you all in your head and I am way to comfortably stuck in that mode, even if I am decent enough at expressing my emotions.
The reason i overexplain is because I am not as relatable as I seem. If I don’t explain a whole lot, I am continuously misunderstood and so the process of having to explain myself constantly keeps me locked in my head.
And so I don’t really want to share as much as I used to. I don’t care as much about people understanding me and knowing my story. I am much more interested in writing new stories together. I could just as easily use fiction to express something because I don’t feel my past is weighing me down like it used to, there really is nothing to get off my chest.
If I were to tell you about my problems, you wouldn’t understand any of them intuitively, we would need to create a shared frame to ynderstand them, a ehole lot of intelectual work. But if I can craft a story about a woman who rides the wind or a boy who wrapped in a blanket for eternity, I can evoke powerful emotions that don’t requrie the same mental bandwith.
This is the work of the artist, the storyteller, the magician. I was never a scholar or an influencer, I only thought I had to be to survive.
I may still fall into old habits and over explain, as I am doing right now, from time to time, but I’ve planted many seeds and these stories grow like apples from a tree, ripe for the picking.
Newest dream:
Bad Dreams
