I frequently will sit and think of the sorts of things I’d like to share here on the blog.
Sometimes I’ll plan out a post in my head, or even jot down notes on paper or in quick bursts on my phone. Then, by the time it’s convenient and possible for me to actually review and post whatever it was that I wrote or thought so great to post, I’ve either forgotten about it or lost the impulse entirely. I think ‘nah, no one cares to read that’ or ‘nope. that was just a journal thing.’ It’s silly. Especially since, no matter how greatly I value my readers – and I do, because I am a creature who loves confirmation and outside reassurances – I never seem to be able to get back into the groove of actually sharing anything of substance with you.
So I guess, I’m writing this to say, that I intend to do more posting and less thinking.
I’ve been working a bit here and there on some reflective type pieces, mostly to do with my interaction and history with spirits and what I tend to label monsters. I like the few that I’ve cobbled together so far, and I’m thinking if I can get them into some semblance of helpful information – or just stories of interest, I guess – that I might smoosh them into a little book.
Would this sort of thing interest you? Pages or remembered stories of my experiences with not-human, never-corporeal, and no-longer-human things? Or the many other sorts.
I try not to label them, which is why I use a general term – monster.
It’s been the sort of story that has been most on my mind of late. Though also processing my real life history and memories of real human fuckery. Or witchcraft. Would that be a thing you’d like to see? Because if so, I have more than you could imagine.
Part of why I’ve lost myself in relation to blogging, I think, is because I’m just lost in general.
I’ll be going away this weekend to PantheaCon (if you’ll be there, come find me! we can get a drink or swap stories or something) and I realize that I’ve still not fully recovered myself from the epic parting of ways which I wrote a tiny bit about last year. I lost a huge part of my life in an unpleasant way, and I’ve lost more connections since then, because of this needful leaving. That it was necessary for my general well-being to leave an unhealthy situation doesn’t in any way curb the sting or sorrow of loosing people who I cared about or thought of as close to me – even though, in many ways, those severed ties are also for the best. And I don’t know that I’ll ever be fully complete with the processing of that clusterfuck of emotion, time, and disaster.
When I first started blogging, I was already deeply entrenched in the world that was that community. I was well trained and obedient, and I was careful to follow the acceptable lines. In truth, a lot of the reason that things ended the way they did was because I had started to really value my own discernment and undertook to relearn the ability to draw and define my own lines and make a stand for what was acceptable to me and my understanding of the world.
But, this was the context of my life when I first entered the world of blogging.
And now, it seems that this context is still overlapping my experience of blogging and my willingness to share or not share.
So I have new lines to learn to draw and fill in or block out. It’s very strange and very confusing.
So I start again. And so here we are.
Where will this blog end up? What sort of random shit am I going to subject you to on my way to understand?
No idea. Really. None at all.
But I think I might download the wordpress app, and just see what happens.
What do you think?