Do you ever get that really weird and sudden overwhelming sense of loneliness? When the trigger is your own imagination? Because same, me too, I’m having that now.
Let me fill you in on a little secret (disclaimer: I have a feeling I’ve actually already got a post up about this so it’s not so much of a secret, haha!) – when I started blogging, I did it because I was lonely. I’d had an argument with some of my closest friends, our group was broken apart and I needed somewhere else to confide in, so (obviously) I had to be as extra as possible and I chose to confide in the Internet.
But the weird thing is, writing actually calms me down. As I’m typing now, I can feel the sudden tensions and anxieties lifting, rationality being instilled again; I didn’t realise when I first started how therapeutic writing is – I’ve always enjoyed it but as I’ve grown up and become more independent (heck, too independent sometimes, I feel) I’ve subconsciously restricted myself in what I say out loud, whether to fit in with the crowd or what, I don’t know – but blogging enables me to say what I like and to get my thoughts in order.
I’m fully aware that in the morning I’ll read this post and wonder what the heck does this mean… I feel like I’m in one of those moods where nothing I say really makes sense, literally or grammatically. I’m also aware that this is just a mood swing and it’s not real, so I think the best solution to this would be to go to bed. Goodnight friends, hope you’re all well 🙂
(I’m also unsure whether I like the thumbnail photo or not…I’m swaying more towards not – it looks like Matisse, a unicorn and a 3 year old child obsessed with poster paint collided and came up with it…)