Thinking back to how I used to post and comparing it with how I write now, you could say I am a little disappointed. Not because of the quality of writing, which I think has remained unchanged, but what I am writing about.
Most blogs I read have interesting lives and boyfriends to speak about. I don’t. I am perpetually stuck in a state of indecision and living a double life. This is the first time I have ever said it aloud. Living a double life.
I suppose it’s true because no one, except for my best friend, knows about my blog (she doesn’t even know what I write about). My readers have delved into a portion of my psyche unbeknownst to those actually living with me.
Since the direction my writing has taken has proved fruitless, I will begin to focus more on my thoughts and feelings. Not daily, filtered emotions; but raw, untarnished sentiments that creep their way into my mind and body.
I don’t wish to stop writing altogether, as doing so helps me compartmentalize my irrational notions. The lack of responses from others, without wanting to sound needy, has shown me I have much more work to do in order to relate to my readers.
This is not to say that I am unhappy with the level of “likes” I have received, in fact, it’s the opposite: I know what works and what doesn’t.
Hopefully, I can grow as a writer in order to achieve what I seek and fulfill my insatiable need to solidify ideas, even if in the deep void of the internet.