I may have addressed this topic in the past, but I re-read my post from last night as I waited for one of my classes to start this morning and discovered something worth noting. With a cup of coffee in my system and a clear head, I was slightly embarrassed about last night’s post. I’m not sure if embarrassed is the right word; maybe regretful is slightly better. It was a feeling of wanting to crawl in a hole and take my overly exposing blog post with me and disappear from my little world. Sometimes, I’m a little too honest when I write here. Sometimes I re-read my posts the next day and feel overwhelmed with insecurity about my ability to write well; as though I’m constantly being scrutinized and judged for the quality of my writing that is always lacking. I feel safe and without inhibition at two in the morning when I’m as vulnerable as I am exhausted. As I pour my feelings, good and bad, into my virtual space, I don’t think about who reads, who sees past my poorly executed vagueness, and how I’ll feel about it all after a bit of rest and time to clear my head. It’s almost as though I love the honesty of it and that I have a very real and genuine outlet that I get to share with you all, but sometimes I wish that I wasn’t revealing myself; that you didn’t learn so much about me in the process. I don’t care to compromise the honesty and “writing in the moment” aspect of this…project, if you will. I don’t know what else to call it. I like project. That creates some sort of a timeline, even a very long and indefinite one, as it seems. For documentation purposes, this is day 109 of consecutive daily posts. I still love it, most days, that is. Don’t forget to let me know you’re still with me every once in a while. And if you’ve just joined me, I hope to share this sacred place here with you and I only ask that you share love here in return.


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