(because when you have nothing to write about, the best thing to write about is … not having anything to write about? What?)
I have a ‘writing’ blog over here, which I’ve not updated in about seven centuries, and was going to stick a poem up on there for people to stare at with their faces and judge with their brains, as I often do. But I decided to do something I don’t think I’ve ever done before: I wrote something with the intention of publishing it, but decided at the last minute to pull it. Basically I, of the 500 blog posts about my life, decided that there was something I’m not comfortable sharing online (that poem is pretty personal), and I don’t know what I feel about this.
99% of things I’m fine with sharing – Amanda was my favourite personality on LGBTeens, Demon Candy Parallel is my favourite series on DeviantArt, I didn’t masturbate until I was seventeen and I once tricked my parents out of a tenner by pretending to need money for a school trip that didn’t exist when I was about ten – but the content of that poem was different somehow. Of course, I know how it’s different, and I’m not going to tell you what that poem was about because that rather spoils the whole ‘I’m not telling you about it’ thing, but it’s been interesting to see my different gut reactions to talking about online BDSM comics, and this other thing.
There’s also the old blogging problem of posts being inherently personal and public: I can write whatever I want because of the 40-odd views I’ll get a day I might get a single commenter, so most posts are statistically devoid of responses from other people (at least the ones I can see), but there’s always the chance that people will read it, namely that the people involved in that poem and the inspiration behind it will discover it. And while I welcome criticism a lot of the time, I worry that discussing that idea on a WordPress site of all places, rather than talking to the people directly, could be seen as me pussying out of this problem, or venting in a space where I feel untouchable and safe, whereas really I’m just a bit awkward and shy (yes I experience those things too).
Maybe I’ll post it some day, when the issue that started the poem has been resolved and I can look back on it with an analytical eye, rather than it still being a source of discomfort in the present day. But until then you’re getting a lot of clunky phrases, cryptic bullshit, and words ultimately devoid of meaning instead of that poem; which, ironically enough, is a pretty good description of that piece anyway.