I recognize that I am talking to myself here, thinking out loud. And that’s fine. These unpolished scribbles are for me, a way to unclog my brain matter before the day’s work and explore ideas that would otherwise accumulate with no possibility for exorcism. They also function as a form of connective therapy. A way to push me to publish again, to pull myself out of a shell in which I’ve encased myself since the first book came out.
For almost a decade, I’ve let the Twitter slot machine (a brilliant comparison whose source I now forget) of promised reassurance mask itself as a balm for my shell when it was only feeding my OCD — indeed, these 30-minute “post and forget” pieces are a way to share without caving into the self-inflicted torture of caring what people think about these snippets of vulnerability and forcing myself to not seek to allay my insecurities about existing in a digital world by making them worse. Hence, a two-week disappearance from Twitter and–for now–a stream reduced only to sharing these pieces as quickly as possible and the movement of the Twitter app to an iOS folder called “Reassurance Seeking”; if someone communicates with me, I’ll see a notification and respond in kind, but my days of putting my face into the stream and drowning are on indefinite hiatus, if not at an end.
(Of course, this could change tomorrow: one of the key things about this digital world of ours is that it is always changing; there is never a right way or a wrong way to go about anything because the right way and the wrong way could swap places in a split second).
At the same time, I recognize the fact that being connected is essential in this little career of mine, even if it’s to a community of one. To cut myself off from tools of connectivity is insanity; to be a tool to connectivity even more so.
These pieces are an effort to utilize the medium / media in a manner with which I’m comfortable and, in offering a much more minimalistic existence, present an honest expression of who I am, for better or worse.
Reading: THE HAMLET, by William Faulkner // Listening: SEX, by The Necks.