Depths of Conscience

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“Have no fear of perfection.  You'll never reach it." -Salvador Dalí


Ah, the joys and sorrows of being a night person. Here I sit, 2:20am, with nothing but the desire to write in my blog.  You see, I'm fickle, and tweeted not two hours ago that I wanted to give up on blogging.  And you know what?  A blog is not a journal. Not a diary!  I am aware of this fact but if I write anything that anybody else can relate to, then hey, what's the harm in being a writer who writes about herself?  They say to write about what you know best.  I know myself better than anyone else (or so I think).

I've been writing for the past hour, a blog draft that no one will read but my doctor and myself.  I shall never post it, for it is too far in my consciousness and the depths of me to reveal to just anybody.  I mean, this is public!  Neurotic, maybe?  Nah, I don't know who'll end up reading what I say and surmise that I'm a nut!  (Not saying I'm not, but I wouldn't want you to assume.)

This piece of writing will be rather short, as I'm writing it mostly out of my guilt for not updating my blog since I started it in October.  I used to blog all the time, on tumblr... I had a few tumblr blogs, or "tumblogs," but they were usually consisting of Beatles, Bob Dylan, and other bands or famous people I fancy...things I liked, quotes, poems and pretty things.  Some of my thoughts wound up in there too, I guess, and I had quite a big following at one point.  I wanted a more "grown up" blog just with my writing.  Tumblr is too tempting to follow other blogs who post pictures I enjoy and then you might as well just go on Instagram to see photographs!  Pics are nice…but I want to write and not be distracted by other people's posts in my blog feed, or pretty photos, or "reblogs."  I want originality, and it can't get any more original than my pure, unadulterated, and WARNING: uncensored(!) imaginings that will be cultivated here.  If my writing is enjoyed, great.  If not, then this blog is making me a better writer.  Practice makes perfect.  Though I well know, perfection does not exist.  I am not writing a college essay here, I am not here to impress anyone, I am here to write.

It's a big world out there - a big Universe.  Hinting to my next topic…



See you next time…! 

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