Towards the end of the school year, I'd planned to start a blog either this summer or in the Fall. Mom said she'd give me Journalism credit for it. (Perks of being homeschooled!) So, might as well get going while I feel like writing, right?
Some time later...."Mom, I just spent over an hour tweaking my template, title, and domain. I also created a Google+ and downloaded every app related too it. I still have yet to write anything."
"Wow, you sound like an actual blogger!"
Now, 12 hours later, here I am sitting on my bed with my iPad and my fancy new Google apps. So I have to write something, right? WRITE? (I'm sorry, but I've thought about using that pun like four times now. I just had to go there.) But what do I write about??? I never thought I'd miss those journal-prompts from English class. Or even the essay assignments! I really just need to write...something.
So where do I start? Book review? Story from my summer class? Funny anecdote? Theological discussion? Description? Fiction? Persuasion? Poem? I simply do not know!!!
Therefore, I started here. Writing about not knowing what to write about. the go-to subject for an enforced, timed journal session in pre-school. The most cliche' first-blog in the history of the Internet. Well, at least I'm writing, right (write)? Maybe that's all that really matters. Maybe I don't really care if anyone reads this or likes it, relates to it or laughs at it, agrees with it or comments on it, finds amusement in it or feels moved by it. Maybe I don't even care if I never post again and this site sits up here for years with one post about nothing, and I don't even get a Journalism credit for it. Maybe all I really care about is that I wanted to write, and I did! Maybe that's the most satisfying reason for doing anything.
A few years ago, my mother decided I did not have enough physical strength and endurance. (Trust me, she was right.) So, she signed me up for a work out class. And I got stronger! But I hated it with every fiber of my being. As soon as she let me off the hook, I stopped doing any physical training and drifted right back to the couch where I had sat, stagnant and idle, before the class. Then, about a month ago, I decided that I wanted to feel fit. I needed to become stronger. So, I did! I started with 13 crunches, and couldn't go any further. 'Til the next day, when I did 49. And then 100. Now, every morning, I wake up and do 200 crunches, in addition to push-ups and jumping jacks. I walk nearly 3 miles and jog up and down stairs. If I look better for it, that's great. But what's even greater is that I wanted to do it, and I did it. I feel much prouder than I did when it wasn't my goal. I also wanted an A average on my High School transcript, and I got it. I wanted to read the Bible in 90 days, and I did it. I wanted to create a blog post, and I wrote it!
I also wanted 20 hours of dual credit, and it looks like I'll only end up with ten. I wanted 35 hours of work per week this summer, and I only have eight. I wanted to read "Gone with the Wind" last Christmas break, and I only read half. But y'know what? Ten hours is still ten hours! Eight-per-week is still a job! Half of "Gone with the Wind" is still 500 pages! And a blog about nothing is still a blog.
I guess my point is, (hey look, a point!) if you wanna do something, do it. If you don't quite make it, stay proud of what you did acheive! And don't even consider giving a crap about what other people think.
Hey! I wrote an actual post about an actual thing! It took me a while to get there, and my writing didn't have awesome direction or conciseness...(partly due to the fact that I had absolutely no plan. I literally just started typing.) I guess not all readers will stay long enough to find the point. Maybe they won't even come back to see if my next post is any better. But...(any guesses what I'll say next? Wait for iiiiiit....) I don't care! I wrote this post for me. I feel satisfied with it. Maybe I'm the only one. And maybe I still don't care.
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