Let Us Embark (Perhaps)

Every return becomes a little more sheepish. Especially this one, six (6) years later. But where else to write nonsense on the internet? I could create a new blog of oddly assorted nonsense, but that seems to defeat the purpose. What makes this nonsense any different from the old nonsense? Years and wisdom? Not likely.

Here, newcomers to my life can track a few years of it in crippling detail: Harry Potter fanfiction (only one ... thus far), rants, doomed attempts at regular or frequent blogging, embarrassing confessions, etc. Longer-term investors in the life of Adrienne can return to all these posts you may have seen before, and delight in how far I haven't come.

I want to write more. I want to connect with a version of myself I seem only able to reach when I'm writing. Writing forces zero distractions. I can't write (well) while I watch TV or look at my phone. It is only through writing I can examine, explicitly or otherwise, parts of myself that fade otherwise. And now we're all basically in isolation and my computer is permanently set up glamorously on my coffee table while I learn how to work from home so there's really no excuse, is there? I will find one, don't get me wrong. But let's see how long it lasts until I do.

Reading back through these blogs always brings me a strange confluence of feelings. (Am I using that word correctly? Google didn't help. I think so. I'm sure my dad will tell me otherwise if he ever reads this.) I think I'm funny enough, and as you can see from the angsty poem below, it's pretty difficult for me to think good things about myself in general. I like reading my own work. But it also terrifies me, because a lot of it feels like it was written by someone else. Someone, and you might be sensing a theme here, better. I just reread a poem I wrote and I don't know anything about poetry so I can't exactly say it's a good poem but I can say that it captured a feeling that I know in a way I don't think I could capture now.

So I'm writing here again partly as an outlet. I spend so much time pouring things into my brain - phone, TV, podcasts, Youtube, there is literally enough content in different forms that you never ever need to spend a second alone with your own thoughts if you don't want to. I want to pour something out, instead. And I wish I was more multidimensional but I'm me and what pours out is words. Always too many and too fast but at least it's an out, not an in.

Also I did 20 minutes of yoga from a Youtube yoga instructor with almost my name today so I'm basically a lifestyle blogger at this point.

Oh and for the newbies? I never proofread. Well, I do, often, but I can never be bothered doing it before I hit publish, so think of the typos like a fun game where you get to figure out what I was trying to say, and the prize is comprehension.