Some thoughts

Writing about myself is self indulgent,

writing about my thoughts is self indulgent but so what? I know I’m not changing the world and I’m not trying to. I’m under no misconceptions, I’m not offering anything groundbreaking or even anything original – I’m shouting into the echo chamber and watching my words bounce back without so much as denting the sides. I used to be afraid of writing, of putting pen to paper and giving gravitas to my thoughts. Why should anyone care what I have to say? Why should anyone listen?

But I don’t want anyone to listen, I’m happy to keep shouting on top of a cliff with no one around. I’m tired of the intangible and i’d rather just get it out, squeeze it out like a splinter. I don’t want to sneer at myself and belittle my opinions, I’ve tried it and it’s boring. Irony is defensive and safe but having the last laugh is lonely. Being cynical isn’t superior, it’s just the easy option. It’s easy to be cold, to be alone and to be safe, its easier not to care than to risk looking stupid, looking out of control.

Life is very embarrassing and everyone’s embarrassed, embarrassed that people will ignore us or perceive us or something completely different. Everyone’s judging each other, people might talk about you but nobody’s thinking about you. I think too much and don’t do enough, I trip myself up through hypotheticals. If you don’t try, you won’t fail. 

Grow up.