I’ve spent a lot of time writing over the years in one way or another, especially if you count online discussion forums. I’ve probably got well over that supposedly magical ten thousand hours of practice under my belt. You know, the number of hours they say it takes to master something.
I guess I’ve ‘mastered’ it, if you can call it that, if you assume that mastery can come with sucking sometimes. See, I’ve been doing this sort of thing in various ways since I was fourteen.
Now I’m less than a month from turning twenty four and I still haven’t gotten it down.
My communication skills have undergone years of honing, have been shaped by who the fuck knows how many hours of striving to capture and present my thoughts, opinions, feelings, and (much later) my art in a way that other people can grasp with no problem. And let me tell you, there are still problems. Still barriers I’m grappling with, still frustrations and challenges.
The funny thing is, a lot of those problems come from hesitation, because I’m better at this than I just implied and I’m selling myself short. I have a habit of that. Underselling so I won’t have to try so hard to exceed expectations. But I still feel like my writing is shit a lot of the time. I still want to say more, be more productive, reach out further and wider. More is always better, right?
Rhetorical question; in my world, the answer to that is an immediate, resounding “Fuck Yes!” Anyways, the problems I have on my mind aren’t the ones that come from hesitation.
What’s on my mind has more to do with the fact that whatever I do, I can always find something to be insecure about. It’s natural, and we all do it. You know damn well you do too. It’s only really bad when it drives you to inaction though. To doing nothing. You can never fuck up bad enough by doing something and have it be worse than having done nothing.
Hopefully that didn’t just go over your head.
See what I mean about clumsy communication, uncertainty, and insecurity? Put another way, I try to write as constantly as I can because fucking up or failing isn’t as bad as not trying. Not trying will get me nowhere. Fucking up won’t necessarily land me right where I want to be, at least not over night and not right away. It’ll get me closer though, that’s for damn sure.
Having an empty blog won’t.
And not adding to it continuously will make it so that it might as well be empty, because even if it’s not, no one will be paying attention. When you’ve got nothing but past shit to brag about, you’ve got nothing to brag about. If you’re not doing something that could catch attention right now, you’re not catching attention. Unless you get lucky I guess, but while I’ve got nothing against getting lucky every now and then, my default view on luck is generally along the lines of… fuck it.
You can’t count on it any more than you can count on talent.
Which isn’t to say you can’t count on it at all, but it only makes a big difference with other factors at play. Namely, passion. Strong enough passion to pour in effort without end, indefinitely, into something that you don’t even know for sure will pan out. Maybe even something that you think shouldn’t, by all rights, amount to anything. Strong enough passion that the possibility of starting from absolute scratch, with nothing, does nothing to curb you.
That’s the kind of passion I have for writing.
Even if some of my posts aren’t as great as I’d like them to be, some of them are, and it’s because of that passion. And whether I’m good at this or bad at it, I just sky rocketed right the fuck through 13,000 subscribers to a hundred over 14,000, so I must be doing something right. If there’s any point to this post, that’s it. This is what I’ve done with my passion so far. So if you really want to get anywhere with whatever it is that you have that burning passion for, might wanna take note.
Or better yet, fuck the notes.
Instead, how about you go do something with yours like I am with mine.