A (Somewhat Angsty) Beginning

I’ve got to begin. I tend to keep my thoughts to myself unless or until they are really what I mean to say; I wait to speak ’til I can say what I mean and mean what I say–but something is going wrong. I’m not saying anything–or if I am, it’s silly things, things that aren’t worth anyone’s while to hear. I am terribly self-absorbed, and it’s starting to show. I need to get some thoughts out of my head because as of now, I think I’m going crazy with everything I think about and worry about and consider. So here, here are my thoughts, worthwhile or not. I’ve got to start writing.

This might take a while, still, because I write slowly–not type slowly, just translate my thoughts into words and sentences very slowly, very imperfectly. I distract myself, too, from whatever I ought to be doing at the time. Usually, I’m distracting myself from tasks by thinking of things that really aren’t important at the time, but I’m apparently versatile: I can distract myself from this current task (thinking and writing down thoughts) with anything else under the sun–Facebook, family, food, and those are just the F’s. I suppose this blog is mainly a response to my activity on Facebook, where I don’t say much, but I watch other people say stuff. It’s uncomfortably similar to how things go in real life, where I observe others but rarely interject my opinions. The things I do say seem ridiculous immediately after I say them, and I want to shrivel up and disappear from sight. This is not who I want to be.

I want to say something worthwhile and then not care about what I think others are thinking of me. I don’t want to be ashamed of my words–up to now I have avoided being embarrassed by my words by simply not saying all that much–I want to find out what I’m trying to say, and then say it. 

So this blog is me, Jo, talking to you (but especially to myself), practicing getting my thoughts out of my head. In this first post, I predict the future: one day soon I will succeed in communicating a thought or two that should have stayed in my head, that isn’t really worth my while or yours. I apologize in advance–I see myself, on that day, wishing desperately I could recall my words and turn them back into harmless, invisible thoughts. But that’s not really what I want.

Everything worthwhile is tangled up with risk.

Thanks for reading:)