Here, have my word vomit.

Why am I writing a blog? Because I want everyone to see the inside of my head and still love me. Isn’t that what everyone wants? Or is it just me? Of course, that’s completely unrealistic. Once your scalp is splayed open and there’s smashed brain everywhere, there are only a few people who are going to love it. There’ll be some people who don’t understand and pretend to like it, and some people who mistake it for modern art and call it fascinating, and some who “just don’t get it”, and then the ones who are absolutely uncomfortable with the whole thing, and then your family, who regardless of where they fall on the spectrum are going to tell you to go to law school. I’m okay with that. I have to be okay with that.

I would like to be a writer. It’s what I’ve always wanted. (At least since after I wanted to be an olden days girl, a paleontologist, a regular ass archeologist, and a pianist. But even those were mostly for the stories.) Right now I’m really struggling with it. “Finding a voice” is such a cliché (as is, at this point, using a cliché and then identifying it as being one), but that’s what I’m trying to do. I want to have a voice that is not the voice of a girl who wishes that she had been Hemingway or Darwin so that she could have already done something brilliant and universally validated. I want to have a voice that lets go of itself and draws people in and that I can recognize as being my own, that will be able to say the things I need to say in the way in which I want to say them. I know that this will require work, and patience.  In so many ways I am still a child and I always want things right now.

So yes, I am writing a blog. I am forcing the people closest to me to ingest my word vomit, or at least pretend that they have when I ask them how it tasted. I am hoping that the colour and texture of what I am spewing into the internet will help me find the palette for what I write when I actually figure out what I have to tell.

I hope that you enjoy it, or are fascinated by it, or if you’d like you can not get it. Perhaps you will be uncomfortable and slightly repulsed, and because of this you will be compelled to keep up with it religiously. Like that time I watched a season of The Bachelor.

In any case, thank you for reading.