Or maybe I'm just beginning.
I have had this blog for almost a year now, and as you may notice I haven't used it much. Well my friends (I feel silly addressing this as though anyone but myself is reading it, but alas, as that is the general point I will continue to do so nonetheless), all that is about to change. I am going to try to use my blog much more often (I am weary of making specific promises, so I won't say once a day, a week or a month... but more than three times a year. how's that?). Why, because I need the practice. I need to write. and write and write until my hands cramp up and my eyeballs bug out and every idea in my head is drained into words, as inadequate as they are to express those worlds that live within us. I need to learn to let everything I am and everything I feel and everything I learn and see and ponder and wonder and guess at ooze out into ink (or keystrokes, as the case may be) and create at least semi-coherent thoughts and sentences and paragraphs, and just maybe even meanings. And you, my hypothetical audience are my experiment. Should you be reading this, and should you continue, I welcome you to my journey. This is my new test. My new attempt. This is my essaying-self taking form and flight and striving just to be. For I am afraid to try, but trying is all there is for me right now and I have realized that even though a lot of things I try fail, the trying is worth it every time. And on those rare occasions when I do actually succeed--even in minuscule unimportant things (like teaching myself to crochet--yes, it's true thank you very much :) there is a satisfaction that defies all expression--well, at least, I'm not going to try to express it today--perhaps another day. Perhaps quite soon. We shall see.
In any case, here today I commit myself to this essaying. And not every blog, surely, will fall into place with the grace I desire--but essay I will, even when I fail utterly and completely, as I am so wont to do. So here I go. . . Into the vast and terrifying world of the great writing unknown. May I come out utterly altered, even perhaps just a little harmed, and better for it!
And for now, adieu dear you--whoever you be.