Visions of Joan
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The will to blog is a complicated thing, somewhere between inspiration and compulsion. It can feel almost like a biological impulse. You see something, or an idea occurs to you, and you have to share it with the Internet as soon as possible. What I didn’t realize was that those ideas and that urgency — and the sense of self-importance that made me think anyone would be interested in hearing what went on in my head — could just disappear.I don't know that I ever fully recovered from my stupor; I certainly haven't started writing more frequently or more deeply in this forum. What I have learned, however, is that the more I realized that people actually read my blog, the harder it became to post with honesty. For a while, it stopped being just my dad and a handful of friends, and became a rising number of nameless, faceless readers. The thought of these anonymous skimmers finding out facts about my actual life was terrifying. Sure, my words will never reach an audience as large as Emily's, but I can identify with her feelings of uncertainty.
But lately, online, I’ve found myself doing something unexpected: keeping the personal details of my current life to myself. This doesn’t make me feel stifled so much as it makes me feel protected, as if my thoughts might actually be worth honing rather than spewing.It's true; rather than rushing to the keyboard every time something notable happens, I have found a joy in letting my thoughts simmer. Sometimes, I don't write about events in my life until months after they have actually happened, and even then I keep the writing to myself and spend time revising my work. Rather than having to respond to things instantaneously, I am given a chance to mull things over. More and more, I am preferring this method. Which isn't to say that I am done sharing things about my life; I am still producing just as much if not more writing than when I blogged every day, and eventually I will find a way to put some of it out there for consumption. But I'm not ready, quite yet.
joyful girl
ani difranco
i do it for the joy it brings
because i'm a joyful girl
because the world owes me nothing
and we owe each other the world
i do it because it's the least i can do
i do it because i learned it from you
i do it just because i want to
because I want to
everything i do is judged
and they mostly get it wrong
but oh well
'cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
and the woman who lives there can tell
the truth from the stuff that they say
and she looks me in the eye
and says would you prefer the easy way?
no, well o.k. then
don't cry
and i wonder if everything i do
i do instead
of something i want to do more
the question fills my head
i know that there's no grand plan here
this is just the way it goes
and when everything else seems unclear
i guess at least i know
i do it for the joy it brings...
More soon, I promise!




My life has been waffling between boring and excrutiating lately and sharing my feelings with the void has been less than advisable these past few weeks. Luckily, we are approaching the end of the once seemingly endless gray (and March, historically my worst month for mental health, is OVER), so I am gonna try this whole blogging thing again.