I Guess I’ll Hang My Tears To Dry – Eric Felton, Jimmy Knepper

What has contributed most to my hesitation to start this blog is fear. An emotion as ancient as human existence. Fear of being perceived, fear of being judged or misunderstood, and the fear of stepping into uncharted waters. But I’ve decided that I don’t want to live my life behind a paywall of fear, with the only cost of entry being discomfort. 

I’ve been faced with fear a fair amount in my lifetime. Becoming so familiar with it has led me to examine it whenever it makes itself at home in my heart or body. There are two types of fear that visit me:

1. The more concrete and existential type, like change, death, and tragedy (which I am oddly more comfortable with because it’s always looming).

2. The more intangible, mutating kind that transforms itself to nestle around my ideas and desires. 

The core difference between the two is that the second type of fear is densely cloaked in doubt. Doubt is the lock to the chains that keep my ideas and dreams bound to my lowest self. Wherever doubt is present, I find fear lingering not too far behind, conditioning my mind to believe that doing something new and unknown is dangerous; therefore, it should be avoided. And what’s ironic is that it’s the second type of fear that is ultimately harmless. Logically, it seems that I would be more hesitant about the type of fear that’s so ultimate, so terminal, but I find I’m more afraid of the what-ifs than what’s definite.

However, I find an incongruity in my thought process, as it implies that the unknown is inherently bad. There is certainly an amount of objective truth in “ignorance is bliss,” and I mercifully thank the powers above that I am unbeknownst to some of the worst days of my life. Yet, some of my best days are ahead of me as well, and I also don’t know what those entail either.

Seeing doubt-veiled fear intrinsically tied to a negative outcome limits not only my ability to show myself what I am capable of, but also my subconscious belief in myself. I view subconscious belief as the most powerful level of self-belief. So why would I want to feed into the self-sabotaging theory that fear of the unknown is mutually exclusive with self-doubt?

Therefore, I’ve started a blog as fuck!! I’m learning as I go, but the the 3 definite things about mewwrites.it.com are:

1. The topic will always be my thoughts and feelings.
2. I’ll always add at least one song that I listened to while writing.
3. I vow to be honest and authentic, no matter how it makes me look.

I’m writing exactly as I speak (and think, for that matter). There’s never going to be a predetermined format or length, and I will only censor myself to the extent it implicates the identities of others. Apart from that, I’m allowing myself the grace to figure it out while I do it. Ready isn’t a feeling, it’s a decision. I have so much discomfort surrounding this approach, but I think it’s what will suit me best in the long run. It’s like those videos when they throw babies into pools, and the baby is splashin’ around, but eventually turns on their back, crying, and starts floating (how it feels to do anything new in your 20s, btw).

There’s so much I don’t know about starting a blog, publishing my writing consistently, or fuck dude, even life itself. However, I do know that I have so many thoughts and opinions that are perpetually being lost to the ether of fallen creativity, and I am the only one who can save them from that fate! Here’s to not letting the lifespan of my thoughts be limited to the time they occupy on my lips. Looking forward to decalcifying the atrophied mental muscles of writing :)).