Thank you for sharing your human-ness. Your openness is welcomed and refreshing for me as we live in a world of many humans who do not always welcome human-ness.
I find your writing very interesting. It’s complicated and meandering and honest, and most of the time I can’t follow a lot of it but it’s still a fascinating glimpse into your mind. So, I wanted to say hi, as a fellow blogger who writes without concern for who reads it or not (or at least I assume so… maybe you have tons of readers, but I know I don’t). I believe that writing and sharing it with others can be incredibly vulnerable, brave, freeing, and cathartic. I hope you keep on doing it even though it’s scary sometimes. I can relate to those waves of sadness that are overwhelming and all-consuming, and how they lead to a whole confusing labyrinth of thoughts and questions about life and existence. You’re not alone. I’m sure you know that, just felt like I should say it anyway.
I have begun to see much of my writing as poetry more than anything else, and not meant to be interpreted definitively. I can hardly follow it either.
I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what makes sharing impactful. With the few readers I have now it’s obvious that there is a connection to more than just the writing, as most of them know me personally and can extrapolate more meaning from my words than a stranger could. I suspect the lack of familiarity from a massive audience could be even more isolative, as they would believe they know more, but really know so little of what could be said. In believing we know so much, the opportunity to fill in the vastness of our ignorance is diminished.
Those who think they know you are so very lost, not knowing they are lost, and know even less about themselves.
When blindness becomes a super-power, darkness isn’t so scary anymore.
Thank you for sharing your human-ness. Your openness is welcomed and refreshing for me as we live in a world of many humans who do not always welcome human-ness.
ET phone home...
P.S. writing is not a cry for help, even if the words are talking about screaming and crying
I find your writing very interesting. It’s complicated and meandering and honest, and most of the time I can’t follow a lot of it but it’s still a fascinating glimpse into your mind. So, I wanted to say hi, as a fellow blogger who writes without concern for who reads it or not (or at least I assume so… maybe you have tons of readers, but I know I don’t). I believe that writing and sharing it with others can be incredibly vulnerable, brave, freeing, and cathartic. I hope you keep on doing it even though it’s scary sometimes. I can relate to those waves of sadness that are overwhelming and all-consuming, and how they lead to a whole confusing labyrinth of thoughts and questions about life and existence. You’re not alone. I’m sure you know that, just felt like I should say it anyway.
I have begun to see much of my writing as poetry more than anything else, and not meant to be interpreted definitively. I can hardly follow it either.
I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what makes sharing impactful. With the few readers I have now it’s obvious that there is a connection to more than just the writing, as most of them know me personally and can extrapolate more meaning from my words than a stranger could. I suspect the lack of familiarity from a massive audience could be even more isolative, as they would believe they know more, but really know so little of what could be said. In believing we know so much, the opportunity to fill in the vastness of our ignorance is diminished.
Those who think they know you are so very lost, not knowing they are lost, and know even less about themselves.
When blindness becomes a super-power, darkness isn’t so scary anymore.