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I was waiting for an epiphany of sorts to dawn on me, with an eruption of thoughts well sown together to make a fabric of a perfectly put-together blog post.
But it never came. Or it came at the wrong times -- in the shower, pre-bedtime in those moments just before I fell asleep, (still talking about writing here, I swear) when I was so angry only words could calm me, or so sad I was overwhelmed by a jumble of words.
I wanted the perfect first blog post. I wanted the first one to be everything you know? I wanted to be the undiscovered lyricist who hits 400 notes on their first post and finds relentless fame for the rest of their days.
But I’m gonna be honest with myself, knowing that the perfect blog post will never come. I started the whole thing to find a place that I find perfection in my imperfections. To spew out run-on sentences that don’t make sense but they’re out there, and not in here *points at head* and so that’s ok.
But the truth is right now, of all times, I have nothing to say..
