It's hard to work when your brain is off. When you're tired and you have Covid and okay maybe you're a little bit high and your thoughts are with someone else and you're discouraged and disorganized and ADHD is kicking your butt.
I really want my brain to kick into gear and work. But it doesn't want to. It's been on vacation for a while.
Oh well. I'll survive...things will happen. But I'll survive. I'll survive today...only to be distracted again tomorrow.
It is almost the new year, and I am so grateful. The new year brings hope for me. A fresh start.
As a person with ADHD who often gets behind or struggles completing tasks, it's important to have lots of fresh starts. A fresh start lets me step out from under the guilt and attack things with renewed vigor.
So here's hoping that the freshness and newness works its wonders and I start to feel more in control of my life for a bit. Here's hoping for hope.
I'm not looking up forums around my interests and joining up. No sirree. Not me. That would be weird and old school and what the hell am I doing?
I'm trying some new things is what it is. And by new things, I mean old things.
Social media has just not been doing it for me these days, and I just want to see how I can build online community in ways that... aren't Twitter, I guess?
So I joined up at RPGnet and made one tentative reply on a thread just to dip my toe in the water, so to speak. Maybe I'll have stuff to say. We'll see. But whether I do or not, at least I have tried. Or I am trying. And it could be cool. Connecting over interests or whatever.
Though I am having “Nerd Imposter Syndrome” at the moment. I'm sure it will pass eventually. Or not. Either way... let's get out there and say some random things.
I wrote this today, reflecting on the faith that once delighted me, that I miss, but don't know how to reclaim it without violence to those it has historically persecuted.
The Psalmist sings “Jerusalem!”
And my heart rejoices
For a place that never was and never will be.
The thought arises from a borrowed book.
Wrested from bloodied hands,
The hands that kept it.
The book you hold lives
Because they loved it
And wrote its words again, again.
When you “stand alone on the word of God,”
It feels dangerous, blogging. Like I could do it wrong, and that would mean I was bad and wrong, and then who knows what? Probably a judgment from the Internet Tribunal.
This is especially the case because I know that I can seem a bit pompous. It's not my fault that I was raised by people who use ten-dollar words (because they were raised by people who use ten-dollar words). I don't use a certain speaking or writing style or certain words because I want people to think I'm smart. I don't even know I'm doing it. Which sounds worse, I know, I know.
It does work on people by the way. But that's not important now.
The point is... I'm shocked and horrified to have a blank slate here and now comments or likes to tell me if I'm doing it The Right Way™. Only the noises in my brain. There's lots of them. Noises, I mean. And see, I didn't even have to clarify that. I just liked the way it sounded. Oh no.
Anyhow, I'm thinking of setting up here to do reviews of horror films. Horror Films have been a slightly neglected passion of mine. Over the past 3 years I've gotten a bit behind where I was. I used to watch every new indie horror I could get my little paws on. Not so much lately.
But that could change. And if it does, I am going to have thoughts. So I may as well have somewhere to put them.
There's nothing wrong, actually, with putting your thoughts in a place where if other people want to see them they can. And if no one sees them there's nothing wrong with that either.
I think that's the weird thing about content in the internet sense. Content is for an audience. Content is a product. And content is so ubiquitous at this point that it feels wrong to make anything for oneself. But I'm going to try it.
I'm trying to reinvent myself a bit. Well, not reinvent myself. I want to reinvent my interactions. I wandered over to Mastodon among the huddled masses of Twitter Refugees. And there I started to realize how almost everything that used to be fun for me about “the internet” had sort of disappeared. And I had thought it was gone forever. Nobody does that stuff anymore.
Au contraire. That world exists it seems. The folks from my Mastodon instance hang out in an IRC for goodness sake! IRC!!! What the what?
So in any case, some exploring led me here. And now I'm writing a goddamn blog post. Like it's 2004, and I'm on Xanga. And I feel good about it in a way that I haven't in a while. I could just write things for fun and maybe share with a few people, and I could call that a success.
Maybe it's okay to just exist in a chill way. You know, Facebook was fun...once. Now it's just exhausting. And Twitter is, as we affectionately call it, a hellsite. But I don't have to do that. I don't have to live in the world of algorithms and “hey! hey! notice me!” I don't need constant interaction.
I used to use an RSS reader to keep track of all the blogs and interesting sites I liked. And now I don't. I could do that again. Curate my own world. Find my own people. Enjoy neat things. That's what it used to be! I would read and share articles about things I enjoyed or found interesting. But it's all been politics and debating for a long time now.
So I'm trying to use my departure from Twitter to start a journey back to me. Back to interests and art and enjoyment.