Those words weren’t perfect 

Two days ago I was ready to delete my previous posts and abandon this whole blogging endeavour entirely. But last night something happened that made me reconsider.
I met a girl in a bar, my memory is a little hazy as I’d consumed a considerable amount of rum, but I believe she was an actress and screen writer. We got talking about writing, and that led to a discussion about blogs.  

My biggest problem with this is that I’m my biggest critic, not just in writing but in life in general. I over analyse every decision I make, every word I say, and every thought I have, and I regret everything. I walk away from every situation thinking, “why did I do or say that, I should have done or said this”. If I was to pick one word to describe my life it would be regret. But that’s okay, because the only reason I regret so much is because I know I could do better, and you only get better by making and learning from mistakes.

When it comes to writing however, I rarely allow myself to make those necessary mistakes. I have hundreds of notebooks at home, filed with nothing but the remnants of pages torn out because I was too afraid to commit to the words written upon them. I have a shoebox filled with letters I never sent because those words weren’t perfect, and I won’t settle for anything less. But perfection is a myth.

As a writer you have to make mistakes, you have to flush out the shit, in order to improve. I absolutely hate my first few posts, they’re pure garbage. If I’d written them and sat on it for a few days, they’d have joined the countless other words I’ve wrote and abandoned. Instead I just wrote them and posted them, spelling mistakes and all, and that’s what I need to do.

From now on I won’t even read them back. I’ll just put them out there and hope that somebody finds some poetry among the almost incoherent ramblings of a man who’s sanity is slowly slipping every day.

I doubt the reality of my existence in every moment, because certain things happen at certain times that seem utterly impossible. I follow no religion, and I doubt the concept of fate, but sometimes one chance encounter is enough to realign the stars, and entirely change the structure of your reality.

I feel blessed to have had that one fleeting conversation, because without it today would be a different day, and the universe wouldn’t be as it is now. So thank you. 

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