I made a bunch of flyers to hang around Williamsburg for my blog, and then I became completely terrified of the prospect of advertising it. The flyers are now sitting on my desk, catching the daytime sunlight of my apartment. My biggest fear is being on the receiving end of vitriol for what I write. In anticipation of my blog reaching a wider audience, I turned off the comments.
I’ve only ever gotten one really bad comment on my writing, and it was when I was 17. Someone went through and read my entire Xanga and basically told me I was fucking shit. It was really weird how hateful and angry it was. At the time I was really shaken by how much rage my blog had incited in another person. Now that I’m older it’s a more of “well, that’s their problem” headspace.
I don’t think that’s always the right road to take though. Especially in the current political reality. People are resisting the messaging of creators when they run awry, and in return are asking for something morally sound. There’s nothing wrong with that, and frankly it’s not restrictive. But it does mean the lens through which you view the world is readjusted in real time, and publicly.
I’m coming back into my skin, slowly but surely. The past 2 years were so emotionally shocking. I spent most of it stoned, and then eventually stoned and drunk, trying to find the emotional strength to recover and re-stabilize. Dating is more of a zoo than it ever was, and I don’t hate it. I’ve almost adjusted to the maddening fluctuations of the romantic world, learning to turn away from it and into myself, my inner oddities, for love and safety.
a soft death 