It’s been ridiculously difficult for me to post anything lately. I wake up in the morning with barely enough time to get to work, I have no drive to try to start any post on my lunch, and by the time I get home I’m so tired and my head is so noisy that any productivity I feel goes right out the window. I’m not sure how to fight this. I’ve missed a lot of opportunities to write about all sorts of things: a movie review for Antman, a hiking trip I got to go on with my boss, a house sitting adventure, the cat I adopted last Saturday, a hike with a new friend from work, the continuing success of my once-broken relationship.
This morning I decided I’d wake up a half hour early in the effort to get a blog post out. It doesn’t matter what it’s about as long as I’m starting to produce again. I think one of my problems, besides being so tired, is that I’m so concerned with making sure that the topic is good. What does that mean, anyway? Oh, I can’t write that, that’s not very good-people won’t like it.
Wait a minute. Aren’t you writing this blog for yourself? the little voice in my head asks. Oh yeah. Somehow, I’d forgotten that. This is for me, and if someone else happens to enjoy it, great! The fact that others should enjoy whatever garbage I decide to write here is a perk, an extra bonus. Of course I’d love for all the things I write to be a hit. I want them to be witty, charming, fun. I want them to strike a chord with someone-lots of someones. But really, who cares if it doesn’t? The whole point of this blog was to get me back into writing, and the very act of worrying about what I’m getting onto the page (or screen, as it were), is causing me to do the exact opposite of what I originally intended.
So, I’m going to renew my commitment of at least one blog update a week, but I’m thinking there may be more than that now. If I don’t know what to write about, I’ll be posting a bunch of nonsense, stream-of-consciousness writing. And maybe when I get the knack for writing more frequently, things will come more naturally. If they don’t, who cares? So, here goes:
I’ve been watching a LOT of YouTubers (mostly Game Grumps and Markiplier) lately, and all I can think about is how I want to be as funny and creative as they are. I watch more and more of their videos, and I dream about how cool it would be if I could do something like that, and make no move to do anything at all. I let that little voice in my head, the one that I was told not to listen to in The Artist’s Way, tell me that I can’t do that.
You’re not funny enough for that.
You’re not photogenic enough to be on camera.
No one will care what you have to say, and besides, you SUCK at video games.
But maybe that would be funny? I try to say back. “Hey guys, this is something I see other people doing, and it looks fun, so here I am. And my disclaimer is that I suck at video games, so come have a laugh with me.”
That’s stupid. That’s ridiculous. So you want to start out your big fantasy already making fun of yourself? No one will take you seriously. Everyone will hate it, and then they’ll hate on you. The internet is full of haters.
I hear you, little voice. I hear you loud and clear, and I’m aware of exactly what you’re trying to do. I’m not super passionate about recording myself playing video games – I’m not as dedicated to video games as I’d like to be, anyway, and drop off them pretty easy. It would be a fun thing to do, and I do like to imagine it, but I also don’t want to put the time, money, and energy into getting all the equipment I would need to do it.
I am passionate about writing, though. Deep down in my soul, even when I’m listening to that horrible little voice, and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming about what I want to be doing and lamenting that I have no imagination to make it happen, I am passionate about writing. So, I call your bluff, little voice, and I raise you a blog post.
Suck on that.
I’ll have more posts coming soon, about the inane things going on in my life. Thanks for reading, and if anyone else is struggling with that little voice in your head that tries to drag you down, give it a fat punch in the mouth from me and tell it to STFU.