I want to write. But I don’t know what to write about.
I want to write. But I’m afraid of people reading it.
I’m not ready to be vulnerable. But I’ll probably never be ready to be vulnerable. Isn’t that what vulnerable is? Not-readiness?
These are all my excuses for not writing. And there’s more.
It’s too hard. I don’t want to use my brain. I don’t want to work at it. I want it to be fun and enjoyable.
And I don’t know what to write about.
*sigh* They’re all silly reasons for not writing. I’ve been alive for 34 years, so I surely have something to write about!! And what’s the point of writing if no one is going to read it?? As for being vulnerable…we covered that one.
Really, I’m just ridiculous. So we’ll start with that. I’ll do the writing and you do the reading.
Why I Am Ridiculous
- A wasp looked directly at me once and now I’m terrified of them. They are evil and all of them are out to get me. >_> I sound as bad as my best friend and my boyfriend, who both insist that spiders jump on your face! (They really don’t. And also, all the wasps are out to get me.)
- God has been so good and faithful to me these last three years (longer, actually, but I have been profoundly more aware of it these last three years) and I’m still a little scaredy-cat. Like He isn’t going to provide. Or protect. Then again…what if He doesn’t? (See?!? There I go!!)
- My best friend yells at me all the time because I’m constantly saying things like, “I will never have short hair again!! Well, I suppose I could get cancer or something…” And I go on about why that would once again relegate me to short hair so she slaps me and says, “Don’t be ridiculous!!!” (See? Toldja I’m ridiculous. And you didn’t buh-lee-me.) I’m always going down the ridiculous negative paths. It’s like I’m constantly in prepare-for-the-worst mode. Hm. I suppose that’s just a really nice way of saying I’m anxious.
- I almost never think of the world in terms of people loving me. Like…people loving me isn’t a real thing. *I* love people. But it doesn’t often occur to me that they love me too. It’s weird. And also ridiculous. When I stop and think, “Wait a minute. They LIKE me. They WANT to be around me!” I get all wowed out like I just discovered I could fly. It’s literally ridiculous.
- Sometimes I spend way too much time on my hair. When it’s curly. Which is why I like it straight so much cos I can just get up and go. Straight hair doesn’t do anything. I love it! Curly hair is all, “Your mom!” And, “SIJ!” And, “Wanna look nice today or draw attention to your head? The former? Wait, I forget – which is former and which is latter? Oh I can’t hear you over the sound of my awesome curliness. We’ll go with drawing attention to your head.” And then I cry. Ha ha! Not really. But I DO finally realize that people are NOT going to be looking at my hair as hard as I’m looking at it in the mirror so I need to chill out and STOP BEING RIDICULOUS.
So there. That’s not all of my ridiculousness. I just needed something to write about and that was a start. Whew.
sheWRITES is going to be a thing around here. Unpolished, unplanned, un……..I can’t think of a third one. *shrug* Anyway, complete with emotes, I’ll just sit down and write from the hip. The wrist? Whatever. It’s about time, I suppose, that I start moving in a more deliberate direction with putting words together. I’ll do the more polished stuff too. Cos you know. Everyone likes to look nice every once in a while, right?
Right. Angsty curls be derned. ;)