I oftentimes wonder how many of these blogs are started up by feverous writers only to be left abandoned in cyber space, alone and in desperate need of a metaphorical dusting. In beginning this blog, am I destined to join those millions of writers who thought they had a thought in their head that the world would want ample access to? I wonder if I am not wasting my time sitting here, writing for the sake of it. Writing to find a way through the tangled rose bush vines that are the never ending thoughts in my mind.
I was encouraged to begin this blogging stage of my life by my parents and one very agreeable waiter on a celebratory evening in a very interesting restaurant. Despite my fears that my blog will go unnoticed by everyone and lack interest for anyone, I am beginning one anyways. My mother declared that writing a blog isn’t for the audience to read, but rather for the writer to self medicate and to truly see themselves.
There is truth to this theory. We write in journals, dictate our lives in “Dear Diary” format and dream in fictional prose brought to life by our imaginations simply to help ourselves through the sticky parts of our lives. We often lack the courage to express our feelings and to say the things we want to say to those who affect us in ways we don’t understand. Often times, I find I lack the sense of conviction needed to really accomplish anything of any value. So, here I am. I am throwing myself into this blog. As I go back to school next week, begin my Chloe and Isabel merchandising adventure, and continue with my new promotion at work, I hope I can touch at least one person. I hope someone learns something, gains the courage to say something, or sees themselves in a new way, even if that person is me.