the ordeal of being known or something idk
I've been ranty, which is embarrassing and I'm fighting myself to not delete. It's also been nice. That silly stuff, silly frustration with the internet which means so much to me but I don't know how to express that irl, is out of my head and I can move on.
If I delete it then at any moment I feel self-conscious (always), then I've given myself permission to delete any and all my posts. And I know me, I know that I will burn everything behind me at the slightest twinge of self-awareness. That's no way to live though, and I want to build on the garbage I put out, and on myself.
Accepting that I can look back at what I did yesterday (in any context) and acknowledge it was rushed or incoherent, I just did a shit job, I'm not very practiced, I didn't even do it, whatever the situation: if I can just accept that whatever is, is, will be a big step for me. I'm just another wretched little human living a wretched little existence and that is never perfect. Never ever perfect. I will never have a 100/10 blog with flawless and completely agreeable posts people will read. (I don't even know if I want people to read it -- you're welcome, but it's shamelessly just me throwing a ball at the wall in here.) My art won't improve if I'm too scared to complete a piece of work and look at it. My writing won't get better if I don't keep a record of where I started, typos and fucked up sentences and everything.
So I guess, in a small way, I'm facing that I'm embarrassed by everything I do by posting my nonsense thoughts here, even if I think it's Too Much (I'm always scared of being Too Much) or too little or just fucking... weird, and it's okay. If I keep it here and don't delete, it's a tiny and very overdue step to stopping myself from hiding. I fear judgement, hypocritical as that is (like I don't judge often but when I do see someone who sets off alarm bells I'm committed to it lmao, and I'm not proud of that). I fear that I make myself look stupid, because I am stupid, and I'm fine with that, but like... I dunno. I make up all these scenarios where the world just fuckin ENDS (not literally) because I wrote about how I don't like something online. Even worse if I write I do like something, then for sure it's over for me (not literally). I caused global warming by posting cringe and losing the log in to delete it back in 2005? Believable, I see it, my bad.
I did a lot of work on rejecting that sense of 'self', I still do do a lot of work on it, but while it works relaaatively simply in the immediate here and now, how does it work when 'you' are a body of work? Like... I'm chill about the stuff I do, but sharing it? When you share it you kinda become it, and ??? ????? ?????????????????? my brain hit a killswitch.
So yeah. Gonna embrace being a mess. And not deleting it.