I usually write and blog about what I like and love. I connect to the subject at hand and it helps me really word things out.
From a creative standpoint, I often wonder if you need to believe in what you are writing. Like, can you relate to any of the characters, ideas, plots, or whatever that you yourself created? Or, can you be completely disconnected with it and still produce something great?
I have been emotionally checked out for months now. Even as I get this blog back up and running, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe in this blog. I don’t believe in my so called optimism.
Do I keep going? Do I stop? Could you even tell?
It’s funny; I love this blog. It’s my greatest achievement in my writing career. Better than the book. Better than being editor of a site connected to Sports Illustrated. This is the best of me. This is me.
So wait…do I not like myself? Is that it? Do I…oh dear…do I not believe in myself? Hoo boy.
In a year full of self…okay, not hate. Self dislike. Okay, fine. In a year full of self dislike, I see it’s probably flowed into my writing because I am usually emotionally tied to my writing and this blog. If I don’t care about the blog, which is me, then I must not care about me. But, I do. I do care.
I mean, like, I love myself. I hate what I have done. Where I am. How I got here. I am very disturbed by the timing of it all too. It’s fine and all.
What I found to be interesting was that I got back into my blogging game as a way to fill my time and thoughts with something productive but all I ended up doing was dealing with it all. Running right into it. My past words haunt me of a happier time I know I will never see again. That poor clueless bastard. He doesn’t know what’s coming.
So, here I am. Stuck. Usually, writing and blogging is my way out. But, I have become blocked. I am blocked. I literally can’t do any creative work. Like, I think my thoughts have popped out of my head and are kicking me right in the balls and are running away.
I gotta do something, fast. I’m in a real low place, bro, and I’ve actually climbed a great height to get here. Progress? Maybe. But, things are slipping faster than I am able to recover. If I stop doing this, I fall apart. If I try to continue, I produce poor content. I don’t want that. You don’t even know.
I tried to write about what happened, but that didn’t get me far. I talked to people. Nope. This year was a trip and my poor blog is hurting. My blog is hurting because I am hurting because this blog is me.
When I start to feel better, this blog will get better. I wrote this post that doesn’t have a happy ending because I wanted you to understand. Now you know why things may look weird in my writing. Blogging. I am hoping that, eventually, my blog will snap me out of it. I’ll wake up one day and this blog will start flowing with authentic Dante material. These featured posts I’m doing is me trying to get myself there.
Life sucks. A lot.