I struggle with what I want this space to be.
A journal? Morning pages? Links and ephemera?
Not settling on any one things means nothing is committed to the page, and that’s no longer tenable. I have this sneaking suspicion that I am some kind of writer, so I should follow through.
But writing outside the confines of my notebook and letters to friends means I have an audience, and I’m particularly sensitive to being watched. I describe it with the same revulsion I do going to a gym: why do I want to go be watched doing something that is, in theory, just for me? Visibility changes how I comport myself, how I behave, and I’ve found visibility to slowly erode my keen sense of self-trust. Am I writing this for me? Or am I writing this for to be validated?
This is why I can only trust the art if I’m in a dark corner of the internet with a minimal feedback loop. This is where I might trust myself to be honest.