There’s been a few heavy posts here lately, and frankly today I just want to forget about all of the shit that is really bringing me down and focus on the shit that may or may not bring me down, but I still can’t get it out of my head.
Way back in June when I wrote my first post on this new blog, I mentioned that I have a secret life. On another blog, under another name, I have been writing a web serial about zombies (on and off) for about a year. I had also been blogging about my attempt at finishing my first YA novel under the same pen name. I haven’t really updated that blog in a month or so, because the novel (which I did finish!) has been sitting in a big yellow folder on the floor of my bedroom since May, and I don’t really know what to say to my writing buddies other than “What the fuck do I do now?” and it sucks, because I know all of the answers to that question, I just haven’t done anything about it.
Also, I wrote some porn. I wrote one erotic short story following after a friend’s footsteps, and I published it to Amazon. There’s no way in the world I will ever share that story (or THAT pen name) with anyone I know, and don’t bother trying to find me – I covered my tracks as if I were born for espionage, but I’d like to just say that it was a fun experience to write and even more fun to see that although sales have not been what I wanted or expected, I’ve made $13.95 this month. I know, right? It can barely buy me dinner. But I’ve made money off something I wrote, which is something I’ve always wanted to do, and I have done it. I rule.
So here we are, or rather, here I am – still hiding the parts of myself that important to me, the ones that make me ME, and the more I try to think about the reasons I wanted anonymity to begin with, the harder it is to remember, because now it is just hard. It’s hard to maintain. It’s hard to communicate, and it’s hard to be true to myself when I’m not really being true to anyone else. I feel like I am worth more than a picture with a fake name in front of it – If nearly 400 twitter followers think my alter ego is so awesome, won’t they like me, too? Especially since it will be me, honestly me?
I don’t know why this is so hard, other than the fact that I will have to face once again, all of my demons. And by demons I mean people who I think are my friends but aren’t, or people who have known me in the past that I wish to forget. I’m just quickly running out of ‘give a fuck’ for all of these sorts of people, though, and that is what is bringing me here, once again contemplating coming out of my writing closet.
It’s who I am.
I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid to fail. I’m afraid to show my failure, I am afraid to show my weakness and self-doubt, I’m afraid to put out there all these little pieces of me that have been building up on other pages and under other names – even though those pieces of me have been embraced and celebrated.
There are so many things in this world to be afraid of. I shouldn’t be afraid of just being myself.
My web hosting for these other sites expires on September 22nd, the day after my birthday. I have a lot of transferring to do.