I remember nights when I would sit at my computer, staring at the screen, and telling myself I had something to write. Something to say. And even if it didn’t seem important I had to put something down. Even if I thought it was garbage. Because that’s the only way I’d ever get anything out there and get better at it and get over the dread that every thought I ever have is garbage and boring. (Only some of them are.)
I used to sometimes worry that nobody would ever read this.
14 years later I sometimes think nobody will ever read this! How liberating.
Social media solved the audience problems for personal web communication. People can find an audience on centralized, social media sites. It makes writing into the cryptic blackhole void of the independent web nearly as strange now as when it first begun. But the instant audience and feedback and hyper-virality is its own nightmare.
I used to think I wasn’t internet famous enough and what was I doing wrong but now I just crave less attention and I wonder if Snapchat is the only authentic communications modality in 2015.
Happy 14th birthday trenchant daily. I didn’t understand being 14, or other teenagers even when I was one, so I don’t expect to understand you either.
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