2024-10-19
(This is entry 16 of 100 for #100DaysToOffload)
I am 23. I feel as if I am under-developed in a way for my age, or really, that I am still young anyways, and say all manner of wrong things, regrettable things, and am in a deplorable state still.
Yet: I am blogging. And writing wordvomits, that are essentially streams of consciousness, often going into topics I wouldn't talk with others about. And, I am writing the poetry now, yet only really when I am in a poor mood (which is happening a lot recently).
Essentially, I am exposing my shameful aspects to the public.
I do feel a little shame about this: blogshame. Really, it is generally shame that I am doing something public before "my time", so to speak, before I am in a state that is acceptable to be seen by the public.
As a result, my blogs are likely immature and poorly thought through, and probably badly written, too. I've a prose section on the website but I don't even write any prose. I've a wordvomit section that is truly vomitous. I write the poetry only when I've a teenagerish melancholy.
So why continue? Ought I not buckle before the reddened cheek and spare myself the shame? No - precisely because it *is* shameful.
I will have here then the (dis)pleasure in a few years of seeing how I've changed. How I may have been melancholy over the winter, and immature over the summer, or ever improving, or remaining cyclically in the same place, or whatever it may be. I'll see, exposed before my hopefully-then-adult eyes my prior state, raw and obvious.
And it probably isn't half as bad I think it is.
And after all, I won't see it from mine own eyes.
And, regret is a luxury.