I've been going back and forth on using this platform to feed my musings, which aim to spur creative passions (and Savee, Cosmos, Pinterest, and have been absent from Instagram for several months now), increase productivity, deepen my faith, develop skills as a parent, maintain personal fitness, and simply be present. Daily introspection to grow or accomplish "things" is such an arbitrary task; I remind myself that in Ecclesiastes, all is vain when it comes down to it.
It's absolutely bonkers to think I've been using Tumblr since 2008. Since then, I've nuked blogs that were reminiscent of adolescent mishaps (this one has an interesting era, began as a clean slate from it all, yet somehow got caught in the weird time of the unsolicited corn content during late-night binges), held Tumblr meetups & had a "fckyeah" submission blog that I felt the need to satisfy others' validations of themselves to uphold their end of societal norms, not sure where this is going thoughtwise but... I've somehow circled back through all the trauma and craziness that my teenage years brought along with my roaring 20s.
In my 30s, I'm no longer breaking hearts & sober-minded more than I've ever been since the age of 14; I'm tending to mine and the woman I married, with an overflow to our offspring & helping to nourish the next generation of youth, hoping that they won't grow up feeling helpless like I did at their age. I have multiple notebooks where I write down my thoughts and keep them private, but something is soothing about the nostalgia of writing here. I frequently mention nostalgia; this blog primarily revolves around that topic in a personal way, but it hasn't progressed in the way I'd like.
I aim to express myself, which somehow leads me to a grounded version of myself & hopefully, by the grace of God, leads someone else to the same light. I put out there that I wanted to begin writing to make a book, to inspire others who've dealt with depression while wearing a mask behind addictions, hurting others, and spiraling down rabbit hole thought patterns, to know that everything is going to be alright if they don't do that act of self-harm that changes the course of history. You don't know how many lives you can improve just by being here. Although it's lonesome at times and nights seem long, there's light in the morning, accompanied by a nice breeze that makes a good cup of tea or coffee, or whatever it is that eases you into the day.
Not sure if the heavy use of psychedelics in the past really helped with my thought processes, sure it's deeper, but man, my autism is crazy with brain tangents sometimes. I'm sure we are all on the spectrum to some extent, but it's overcoming it that I'm getting to.
I feel like I haven't been able to express myself the way I want to on the usual social sites, as they are swamped with family, job colleagues, students of mine, and church friends. This might be the path of least resistance, some strangers, but aren't we all strangers at first?
