I read most of my posts in this new blog, and compared it to my older blogs. By old, I meant really, really old blogs. Two years ago, and older.
Sad to say that I have lost touch.
I am not saying that I am a great writer. I am in no way even a good writer. It’s just that the posts are no longer the same. Do you know the saying that you’ll know when it’s over? After reading my last posts, I had a feeling that it would all be over, if not yet.
I feel like I lost the passion to write. Maybe because when I was younger, I had so much apathy to everyone and everything around me. Not because I wanted to, but because I was influenced by the environment to hate every single thing, living or not, outside of my immediate family, for security reasons. I can’t trust anyone because I didn’t have the luxury to, or so I think. All of this gave me a different perspective, a different world. A different left and right hemisphere that spews out different thoughts and observations, and with that came numerous posts that I found very satisfactory.
And that is the point.
I felt satisfied with my posts. Every time I hit the Publish button, or whatever button on another site, I have always felt like I did my brain justice, my experience thanked a million times and shared nicely. Now, all I feel is the obligation to post at least once or twice a week, just to keep my blog rolling. I don’t even have a tingle of that satisfaction. Maybe sometimes, but not enough.
All the pain (no emo) as a youngster, helped guide the hand glide through the keys. The brain, directly connected to the hands, and it types as the brain thinks. Split second difference. Like Tupac said, “I go blind and let the Lord do His thing” or something similar. My own version of the Ghetto Gospel. My own story, and my own storytelling.
Is that what I am missing now? I am hoping not.
I look at the blogs of my acquaintances from college and even high school. Some of them, just fresh bloggers. But I don’t want to call myself a blogger. I just want to be a writer, simple and plain. Not even a professional one. I just want to tell myself that I can write.
I look at the blogs of acquaintances from college and even high school. I don’t want to join the bandwagon, though. It’s not for me. I don’t want to promote senseless products, or products that I don’t really need. I don’t want to force humor in every post, or put too much emphasis on trying to be intellectual. I don’t want to follow famous authors’ style of writing. I want to have my own, or better yet have them emulate me.
I don’t like the direction where my journal is going either.
I read all the blogs that I follow. Don’t get me wrong. I love how they express themselves, and that’s one reason I transferred to WordPress. I feel more content after reading the blogs. Maybe it’s the community, or maybe it just the writers themselves. I just don’t feel the content I get after reading their post, compared to after I publish my own.
Maybe the cure is to post only when I really feel like it. But that’s another change I didn’t want to happen. Back then, I was able to write at will, with the same level of contentment all throughout. It shouldn’t be a problem for me now, or so I thought.
If it takes me weeks to get back on track, maybe that would be necessary. I worried about statistics too much for the past months that I failed to remember why I even started writing and posting online in the first place.
I want to let my future child/children know how fun it is to write, and to read. I want them to read my thoughts when I was younger, when I was their age. I want them to follow. I want them to write every difficulty, obstacle they face and how they triumphed over it, so that they would be able to share it to their children.
I remember my love for drawing. I used to draw a lot when I was a kid. I literally drew on our walls just to satisfy my urge to draw. Then I got cooped up in an educational institution that did not support my love for drawing. Same thing happened to writing. Every school I have been never really helped develop any or all of my potentials, if any.
I’ll start by reading more. I have mentioned that I have been reading the blogs that I follow. I would look for more blogs that pique my interest, and for more books and magazines. I lost touch with these paperback friends, and it is entirely my fault.
I would like to get back on track. One post at a time.