Preamble Ramble

So, I’m trying to figure out what I will do with this blog. I want to write. Quite frankly, I feel I need to write. And for my own sake, for the sake of my growth and the future of my future, I have to write to an audience. An audience beyond myself. An audience beyond my dreams. An audience beyond my own future.

I used to do this. It was quite common, in fact. I wrote in order to be seen, in order to be discovered, in order to be found, in order to be loved. Then I turned away from that. I put an end to those particular childish things. And yet…

…and yet…

…and yet, I have kicked against the goads of writing for an audience for so long. I have tried to keep this inside, and a part of me has been screaming from the rooftop of my soul. And so I am here. I write this blog, knowing that someone just may read it. I write this blog, knowing that someone just may read its words, wondering what brilliant artiste put fingers to keys and shone forth this melody of literature. I write this blog, knowing that someone may read its words, wondering what self-absorbed sod wrote this mess of navel-gazing nonsense. I write this blog, knowing I might get praised or rejected, adored or ignored. It’s terrifying. I fear that this will reveal that inside I am empty. That I am nothing more than an avatar pretending to be real, that I’ve just been playing at the Turing test for so long I’ve even convinced myself that I’ve won the game. I’m a real boy, after all.

So what shall I discuss? I don’t know. I’ll discuss that tomorrow. For now, I’m just happy to have this first post published. And read by…well, nobody yet.