Over the past few weeks I had been thinking a lot about what
to do with my blog. I have been blogging for more than five years and I’ve
always enjoyed it. Only recently has the spark of it dulled a bit. I found
myself not wanting to write anything. That was a surprise for me since I’ve
always liked writing. Playing with words, drawing pictures with sentences.
Telling stories.
But sometimes my heart wasn’t fully into it anymore. Something
was missing. I felt pressure to write something in order to keep my blog up to
date – without really wanting to do that. Pressure made entirely by me – no one
else is to blame. So I stopped writing altogether and instead gave more thought
to this blog journey.
I wonder where my heart was when writing those other posts
and why I bothered in the first place. What was keeping me from being genuine
and real? Where was the “real me” in those moments? It’s not that I want to
hide - yes, I’m not always “main stream” – far from it -, I have rough edges
and often queer thoughts. That’s who I am. But is there any valid reason not to
show that?
This is my blog, I am the author of it. I decide what to
show and tell, and I want it to be heartfelt, true and real. No apologies
either if I don’t turn up on a regular schedule. Id rather be here less often
but when I show up, it’s the real me.
You, my wonderful readers, each one of you simply deserve
this.
