I’m not happy with my blog right now.
I’m holding back.
I’m being lazy.
I’m lacking focus.
Here’s the problem:
My balls aren’t to a wall of any sort.
Not even a half wall.
Or a railing.
Balls are in.
Balls need to be out.
Am I saying balls a lot?
I want to write fearlessly.
I want to write as if I think the fucking words will expire if I don’t get them down quickly enough.
And I want to write “fucking” more.
And I want to do it now.
I’ve lost that blogging loving feeling (whoa-oh oh) and I’m afraid I won’t get it back.
Not afraid like I’m afraid I’ll accidentally watch Bridesmaids, but I’m kinda nervous, yo.
Must. Fix. It.
I want to write like I don’t care who’s reading.
Or your mom.
I want to write like I’ll be equally satisfied if I get a thousand comments (and three hundred marriage proposals) or nothing but crickets.
I want to write things that make people jealous.
I want to write things that’ll make me concerned I’ll never be able to write that way again.
I feel like blogging has changed a lot since I loved it most.
People are specializing.
People are monetizing.
People are twitter-izing.
And more power to them.
But I want to find the people that are bringing it.
And I want you to point them out to me. (Seriously.)
I want to read people who are putting everything into their writing.
Whatever they’re writing.
If it’s a recipe blog, I want to read people who are greasing the hell out of their goddamn baking sheets.
I’m not happy with blogging in general, really.
But I can’t control that.
I CAN, however, do my part to try to make blogging awesomer.
I surely can.
I want to write words that…
Need to be written.
Make you stop.
I want to write words that make me NEED to write so fucking many more.
I want to write things that make me afraid I’ve gone too far.
And then I want to write things that go farther.
I want to write.
Balls meet wall.
Let’s do this.