Reflection.

On My Writing & Authenticity: A Disclaimer.

I’ve recently come up against my own words. By this I mean that certain things I’ve written on here have confused people I care about or caused them to question my motives. So, in honor of that, here’s what I would call a long-winded-disclaimer-cum-exploration-of-authenticity-and-writing-cum-vow-to-tell-the-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-the-truth-except-for-a-little-sarcasm (say that five times fast–insert cum joke here).

There is a thin line between what I write and my actual reality, but things that I intend to convey a certain way still run the risk of coming off in a different manner altogether. Using my own life and blatant opinions as writing material is no spotless pursuit—I will probably always offend someone, have negative judgments thrown my way, or have my reasoning for sharing something misunderstood. People will definitely disagree with my sentiments. But that is inherent to being alive, writer or not. My opinions and life experiences don’t hold more weight in the world than anyone else’s (and are often  quite boring compared to most), but I just happen to enjoy exploring them as honestly as I can and stringing them together in the prettiest–or most absurd–way possible.

Why? It’s very simple. I am a lot more introverted in real life. When I’m face to face with people, especially people I don’t know very well or don’t feel instantly connected to, I tend to be pretty closed off (bitch face is my MO due to said-discomfort, not my disdain for you). People always tell me I seem calm and collected, but the inner chaos that is usually taking place inside my brain would beg to differ. Writing allows me to portray my thoughts and feelings in a non-garbled, non-awkward way. It is a way for me to connect with people on a deeper level, which is nice when words often fail me in my day-to-day life.

Other than the selfish cathartic pursuit, I believe that my writing can occasionally provide comfort to others. Discovering that other people have gone through similar things or experienced the strange feelings that I too have endured has always been very reassuring to me. I aim to build off of that by sharing my own stories—both serious and silly. I won’t change any lives (I’ll leave that to the rest of you brilliant birds and bees) but maybe something I say will change your outlook for a day or simply remind you that we’re all fighting the good fight. If anything, I hope to give you a laugh. Like a hot cup of tea or a much-needed nap, I want to send a little solace into the world in return for the solace that’s been sent in my direction. If karma is real, I want to be on its good side, because I don’t think that guy is fucking around.

I always tell the truth on here, perhaps to a fault (and to my family’s occasional chagrin–shout out to those favorite fools), but in my experience that has to go hand-in-hand with having something remotely interesting to say. I never have a life experience with the sole intention of writing about it, everything I write about strikes me as a worthy topic in hindsight, not before it’s happened. I am not Lena Dunham and I am not trying to shock anybody, nor am I trying to write the next episode of GIRLS (although doesn’t everyone in their twenties have a lot of material to contribute to that cause? Call me Lena, let’s do biznass.)

Also note: A lot of my posts are not written at the time they are posted, so my feelings may have changed, but if I still believe they’re valuable and worthy of sharing, I’m going to post them. I employ a shitload of sarcasm and, especially in the Dear Diary posts, exaggerate excessively, but when the statements are stripped down there is always a truth behind them. Yes, even attention-grabbing statements that refer to things such as blowjob anxiety, because that’s a REAL thing (can I get a hell-yeah from everyone who’s into dudes?)

We are inconsistent creatures, and, like most of you, I could be a poster-child for what you might call, the dynamism of this here human life. My moods may change like the colors of the wind circa Pocahontas, but I promise to you, dearest readers (all five of you), that truth will always be the kool-aid I’m sipping. Cue the Mandy Moore version of “Have a Little Faith in Me.”

Categories: Reflection.

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