Sitting in the office before work pushing myself to write something, because I’ve been so horrible with being consistent. And it’s not like this reality is anything new, on the contrary, it’s been something I’ve been battling for years. It’s this thing I like to call “the inability to consistently write about pretty much anything for my Tumblr blog or… ya know insert public writing avenue.” Musing here, I wonder what it is that keeps me from into exercising the one thing that has continuously brought me peace of mind at times and enraged me the next. It’s something that constantly stirs up emotions in me be it good or bad, but it’s something I turn to no matter how I’m feeling. Unless it’s lazy, then all bets are off. However, I find myself barely mustering enough energy to write anything to share on the internet, but then I remember, WTF cares?!
My terror behind sharing my thoughts on the internet stems from the numerous trolls that live in the bowls of user comments and reddit. It dwells in the fingertips of a-holes and cowards. Though, it also lurks in my own mind, tucked away in the bed of insecurity that has burrowed so deep within in me I sometimes forget its existence and blame my lethargy on the weather.
Well, I’m tired of making these empty grandiose claims of being more consistent and writing more, because my words mean nothing. Action. Action is everything. I’m slowly figuring out that is the case across all aspects of my life and it’s the simplest yet the hardest concept to grasp. I do a lot of talk. I’m even good at convincing myself that my words are true, which makes it very difficult to improve since I keep telling myself I already have. So, no more being annoyingly untruthful and saying things that ultimately mean nothing because I need to be more impeccable with my words and more actionable with my life. Ha. We’ll see, right?
Right.
Sigh.
