I guess I managed to make it to 30 without starting a personal blog. I’m told no one blogs anymore, so that’s appealing. I don’t necessarily want to foster any kind of community around this. Journaling in secret could help, but screaming into the void could also help. Blogging seemed like a midway point between the two.
I don’t know what I hope to get out of this. Maybe some cathartic sense of release. That desire might align somehow with the need for spiritual cleansing. I often find myself at a loss for how to express what I’m thinking. I have a problem where I equate self-expression with burdening other people. Kind of like, we’ve all got problems, why would anyone care about mine? That sort of thing–nothing you haven’t heard before. But I don’t want to put that on anyone. No one is being forced to read this, so right now I will absolve myself of that guilt.
I also wanted an outlet for my other nonsense. I like to read a lot, and reading is what got me started on this path back to God. So I guess I owe it…my SOUL. If you believe that. It’s fine not to.
Along with reading, I put a great value on the inherent potential in art of all kinds to serve as a portal to that which is intangible. When you read a book and get introduced to a thought for the first time, a thought that is new to you, you’ve been given a gift. This is so cornball, so thank you for staying with me. I want to resist the idea of holding onto all of my old thoughts out of pure stubbornness. I will instead stubbornly pursue new challenges to my old ways of thinking. I have plenty of old thoughts to work through and to reconcile with newer stuff.
I do wish I’d made this attempt sooner.
This won’t be all doom and gloom, but when it is, I hope to give it 100%.