Whenever I wake up, I often have good ideas for an entry I want to blog about. I think to myself, “I will write about this tonight! Or as soon as I can!” Then things happen and when I finally sit in front of the computer, poised to write, I feel blank and frustrated. I often forget what to write about and don’t give myself enough time in the morning to actually sit down and even jot a note to myself as to what it was I wanted to write about. It is often one of three problems I have with writing as of late. Maybe four. Er, five? I’m actually not sure how many problems I have with writing. I will probably change my mind as I write, and think to myself that maybe the problem isn’t as big as I thought it was or maybe it is and I’m trying to trivialize it too much.
One problem I know for certain isn’t trivialized is my paranoia over what I write and how I come across. I am always worried how I am perceived; strange given how I often act when I perform for the podcast. I know I try to not care as much when I am in front of friends and in a podcast that I can allow a different persona to take light. My worries over people’s perceptions of me is often attributed to my parents who have driven me to paranoia at times on how my every word, action, and presentation is taken and interpreted especially with other Filipinos present. I remember having become withdrawn due to this frequent paranoia, to the point I had become a recluse in favor of not having to deal with the stress of putting on airs. When it comes to blogging and social media, my inhibitions come in the form of not saying the derogatory comments all the time or doing a lot more potty humor than people would feel comfortable with. In fact, it is taking a great amount of will power to not go and delete a large chunk of this paragraph and it is almost driving me mad not going back to “edit” myself out. Especially when my biggest worry is being perceived as a moron.. which I care about in too many circumstances than I would like to admit.
The third problem I have concerning writing and blogging in particular is the amount of blogs I am either maintaining or writing for. For blogs that are for myself? I currently have… 2 wordpress blogs (astralcandy.com and mreh.net), 1 LiveJournal account that contains cross postings from here and private entries meant for friends only (mreh.livejournal.com), a tumblr account I have messed around on recently when toying with the idea of a photo blog, and a Penzu account for completely 100% private entries. On occassion I also write for zantetsuken.net, and have been making a point to try to write there for participation in our podcast Sequence Break XIV. That is a total of six blogs! None are updated regularly (I’m not sure anyone particularly cares), but I have started to feel that maybe I should consolidate at least two of them into one. This would either mean astralcandy and the tumblr account rolled into one with mreh.net, but I am not quite sure if this will work out for my target audiences regarding astralcandy.com and the issues I have with being able to upload photos with ease on a blog. It is something I will need to talk to Derrick about, but am hesitant to do so since he already has so much on his plate as of late. The last thing I need to do is become an added burden to him, when I am already doing more talk of wanting to bite his head and gnaw it to a bloody pulp. Love knows no bounds until you talk of gnawing your loved one’s head into a bloody pulp, I say.
And, of course, after trying to type out my thoughts and being interrupted by my boyfriend belting out Thriller to conjure up more thoughts of undead and zombies to haunt me… I have forgotten the other things I had wanted to type. See how this is a vicious cycle? It will be a wonder if I am able to write anything again in the future. In the meantime, I will probably try to think about the idea of blogging more; whether I should continue, condense my blogs, or just give it up altogether. I’ve never been confident in my writings or blogging in general, despite my boyfriend saying he enjoys both. It is our way of communicating the unsaid thoughts that go on in my perturbed mind. Unless he becomes a mind reader. Heaven knows I’d love a boyfriend who can read my every thought and avoid the silly non-sense of talking or writing out my demented ramblings.