Three years and 3500 posts ago (so many posts! Even if each post was an average of only a hundred words, which I know is a massive understatement, lotta words there, yaknow?) I started writing on this blog out of nowhere for what seemed like no good reason. What was I bit with? Where was I trying to go? How far did I think this would take me? Did I not know blogs were dead, and this was an era of twitter and microblogging and tiktok and insta and other social media? I didn't care, I wanted to write, to improve as a writer, have the discipline of writing something daily (or regularly, for that matter) and have something to look forward to every day. Add structure to my days, a ritual, a routine. And here we are. I've accomplished most of the goals I set out to achieve, save for a few ones that I'm working on. Yes writing daily daily strictly has been tough and I've been making up for that by 'averaging out'. I'll get better. And no I haven't gotten anywhere close to writing a novel. Yet. It's a bummer but it feels like I'm close to finding my writerly voice after so many nonsensical posts and pointless poems. Also getting the 'psychology' of writing, and understanding that you don't become a writer unless you...you know, put your fingers down on the medium and actually write. You can plan and scheme all you want, all it matters is if you goddamn write anything down or not. In the end, you gotta jump.
You gotta make the jump, bub, that's what matters. Just. Jump.
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