Emerging from the Shadows

Hello There.

Well, this has been a long time coming.

As someone who spent her teenage years spewing her most private ramblings into the ether of Tumblr, at a time when Tumblr was filled with taste[full?] soft porn, fit-spo that bordered ana-spo, and 14 yr old girls who thought DDLG relationships were the norm, I've had my fair share of experience with the delicate balance that is trying to consume enough of the internet without letting it swallow you whole. However, there are only so many resolutions that can come about when the twenty something young girl whose cotillion was gleaned from social observations on twitter, and who somehow manages to have both a hero and a victim complex finds that she has something to say.

Whether or not she has someone to listen, well, thats a different matter entirely.

Oh yeah, by the way. Trigger Warning. For efficiencies sake, let's assume I mean all of them, you never know what just might fall out of my mouth.

Now that you're beginning to form at least a hazy picture of what the hell is the point of what I'm trying to say, I might as well say it. This blog, was inevitable really. One can only glean so many hits of righteous superiority by journaling in solitude, and I know practicing delayed gratification is great for for emotional regulation, but I can't wait till I die and my loved ones discover the ingenuity of my private thoughts and rush to publish them. I need the world, or some small fraction of the internet at least, to know that I, am fucking hilarious.

Now that we've set the bar just high enough for me to publicly slip into into my pit of self degradation and destruction without feeling guilty about it, seeing as it's overshadowed by the sunny mountain paradise of narcissistic ego I inhabit the other six months of the year, lets get into the why.

I am a writer. While it took me a while to come around to the title, since someone made the mistake of bequeathing me with it at a time when I resisted other's labels out of pure spite and determination to be utterly undefinable by anyone but myself, I thankfully stopped denying that truth conveniently around the time that I realized that I was good at it.

Like anyone, I like being good at things.

I really.

Really.

Like it.

Being bad? Not so much. And the unfortunate truth that set in around 10,000 words into my still unfinished first novel, is that I'm not a good writer because of skill, but because of passion. And it seems, that when the passion isn't bright enough to obscure the rest of the very important components that make a good writer, I fall short.

And so my little willing gunny pigs, you are practice. Obviously, I don't need any help developing my voice, or my flow, but the basics could use a little work. Seeing as I would like to actually make a living off of my art before we're all neuro-linked into the meta verse for a permanent sequel to late stage capitalism, I figured it would be a good idea to start writing for an audience.

Well, actually I'm writing for me, but I'm sure someone will find it as enjoyable as I do. Hopefully along the way I'll fill in the potholes of my unconventional education and maybe learn how to write dialogue that doesn't make me want to yeet myself off the scenic 101. At the very least; I'm sure I'll eventually hammer home the difference between a semicolon and a colon (apparently it's not aesthetic).

Anyway, let's bring you up to speed. I am finally finishing my B.A in psychology, 2 years later than I planned but better late than never. (An expression I advise using sparingly, and not once a month like some people I know.) I am 23 years old, loving the freedom of knowing that no one will like me anyway, so I might as well do what ever the hell I want. Seriously though, why did I ever do anything I didn't want to?

Yeah, I know, life sucks, and sometimes we have to do things we don't want to. Thats my point. Life fucking sucks. I mean that shit will just keep coming and it wont stop till you're dead or checked out early. But here's the thing, Life is also pretty fucking awesome. I mean, have you been outside lately? And I really hate when people other than me are right, but exercise? Turns out that shit does actually help with your depression.

So I'm trying something new. I'm taking my last fuck, and doing a return to sender, because it never belonged to me in the first place. I am going to live my life, chasing those little moments of joy and ecstasy, because I fucking earned it. I don't know if its hedonism or nihilism or some twisted combination of both, but the survivor instinct in me is suddenly demanding that we do more than survive. Infinity has always stretched its' limbs in the corners of my mind, and now I am going to pour it out onto pages until my fantasies match my reality. I will be writing about many things, including but not limited to; Whatever I want. Currently, that looks like ecology, physics, travel, pagan histories, politics, psychology, and mental health.

As you may have gathered this will be a rather self centered venture, so there's a great possibility I'll also share personal stories and aspects of my life, most of which centers around Vanlife, Lyra, Hiking, Comedy, Hulahoop, rollerskating, and of course, my various artistic endeavors.

So, if you would like to read along while I kick against the current of my genetics, past, and major historical events towards authenticity and bliss, you are welcome to stay.