I'm not sure what brought you here. Maybe you're my good friend and you do things like read my blog because you care about me. Maybe you're a stranger that finds parallels to your own life in some of the things I write. Maybe you just hit the "next blog" button or this entry came up in your Google search results. I don't know.
I can tell you what brought me here.
Years ago, perhaps the day of my first blog entry, I found that my friend Tommy had a blog. It was amusing. It was a connection. It was an outlet. And I wanted one. So I started one.
Some part of me just likes to write. I write and write and it makes me feel better. I use metaphors and examples to construct some kind of foundation for feelings that seem to shift and swirl like the last two cheerios in a bowl of milk. I don't understand the world. I don't understand others. I don't understand myself. Every time I think I have a little corner of something figured out, the whole thing changes and my understanding crumbles in my hands. It was a castle made of sand.
These words, these entries, help me vent my confusion and share whatever conclusions I've come to. Sometimes I contradict myself. Sometimes I repeat myself. But I take them both in stride. I consider that one shows some kind of progress, some kind of change, and the other proves that no matter what else is going on in my life, there are some things that will never change.
And some part of me wants to be heard. I get uncomfortable speaking. I need lots of encouragement to keep speaking most times. Especially when it is serious. I can't get rid of the voice in my head that tells me other people don't want to hear me. Shut up. Be easy to be around. Be pleasant. Stop being serious. Stop sharing feelings and opinions. But you choose to come here. I'm not forcing my voice on you now. So it is so much more important to me, so much more flattering when someone listens HERE. Because they choose to. Not because they were being polite.
I'm just trying to be the best version of my I can be. I'm trying to grow and learn and be better than I was before. It is a harder and slower journey than I ever anticipated.
I'm trying to do as little damage and as much good in other peoples lives that I can, while still maintaining some of my natural selfishness. I never mean to hurt anyone. I know how that feels. Why would I want to share it?
I want to figure out who I am. Because that seems to change about daily. And I want to learn how to let go of the unhealthy things in my life and learn how to love the things that are good for me.
And I want to keep a record. Because even after all my status updates disappear. And even after my texts messages are deleted. And even after you stop reading this for years, it will still be here. A record of who I was. Even when I hated who I was. Even when I was inconsistent and boring and just plain stupid. I was here.
I am here. And I'm glad you are too. Even if we don't actually speak to one another.