Who am I to stop right in the middle of a project and laugh it off like it's no big deal that I started?
This happens, you know.
I was going to run a marathon. I told everybody. I chose one. I didn't pay, but I was planning on it. And then I got out of shape for a week and changed my mind.
And then there's this blog, where I was going to write because writing is beautiful, and it makes me feel as if I am contributing to the world and it brings me love and happiness. But I stopped because I felt there was no reason to continue, that I was writing other things.
What kept me from thinking that I could do both?
So I'm back. I won't promise that I'll write every day, or every week even. But every once in a while I'll spurt out a post about the boy I'm in love with, or how many times I cried today, or how messy my room is, or the ridiculously materialistic yearnings of a 19-year-old college girl.
This happens, you know.
I was going to run a marathon. I told everybody. I chose one. I didn't pay, but I was planning on it. And then I got out of shape for a week and changed my mind.
And then there's this blog, where I was going to write because writing is beautiful, and it makes me feel as if I am contributing to the world and it brings me love and happiness. But I stopped because I felt there was no reason to continue, that I was writing other things.
What kept me from thinking that I could do both?
So I'm back. I won't promise that I'll write every day, or every week even. But every once in a while I'll spurt out a post about the boy I'm in love with, or how many times I cried today, or how messy my room is, or the ridiculously materialistic yearnings of a 19-year-old college girl.
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