Sophomore Slump

The word sophomore makes me chuckle because it makes me think of my Pakistani dad who would say “soph-o-more”.

It’s weird putting up a second post. This whole writing thing is so fucking weird, especially to put out onto the internet. When I used to blog at 18 there was a network of people who were also blogging (I was a xanga girl), so we were all collectively putting up bad posts and weird photos so I didn’t feel as weird.

Now it’s up online and I’m solo, and it’s weird to think of something like this existing for the internet, for consumption. It’s weird to think about where my words could travel, and that in an of itself creates a bit of anxiety. I also think about comics, who spend years putting together and putting out material only to have bored audiences staring back at them. I wonder how much of being an artist is mental, being able to disengage from the audience and come back to a place of creativity.

I feel like this is good practice for me, because it forces me to express myself, put myself out there. It’s weird, I spent so many days thinking about my first entry and how I ended it with “Hola from NYC.” Do you have any idea how annoying that sounds in my brain?

I’m calling this post “sophomore slump” because it’s what usually happens to most recording artists after their first big album. I don’t think my first entry was anything particularly big, but I can’t help but think that it’s just downhill from here. I’ve lined myself up for the slaughter.