So I've been doing this for eight years now. That's a little bit more than one-third of my life. I have mixed feelings about it. It's along the lines of shaving my legs: I started doing it so long ago that it's now part of my routine, but if I could do it all over again maybe I would have just left it all alone.
See, on the one hand, it's enjoyable to have an audience. I like to be able to tell little stories to people who will never hear my voice. When I started doing this, the web felt exciting and full of promise. I'd go to my college classes and count down the minutes until I could return to my computer and update something. I don't know why it was so important to me, but the new medium thrilled me. It still does, but more on a connect-the-dots informational level than on a creative one.
And yet. I have regrets:
1. I wish I'd written anonymously. It's too easy to track me down.
2. I wish I'd written better, and about better things.
3. I wish I'd shown more kindness, online and in general. I wish I hadn't been so candid about my feelings. I wish I'd been less of a know-it-all. I wish I hadn't been so critical of people. I wish I'd have realized that in judging people, I was shifting my own self-criticism onto others who didn't deserve it. And so, I'm sorry. Sorry to old roommates and sorry to well-meaning professors and sorry to Evan and sorry to Ben and sorry to the goth girl in my art class and sorry to Lance and Dustin and Sena and people from back home and anybody else who I dragged through the dirty dust of this place. I apologize.
Originally I was going to post links to old things that I wrote — funny things to maybe make you chortle — but I feel like I need to do some sort of penance for being such an obnoxious kid. I started writing here when I was 18, and at 18 I thought I knew it all. Somewhere along the line, I realized that (to quote, um, Green Day) all I know is that I don't know nothin'. I'm trying to learn, trying to be a better person, trying to turn mistakes and missteps into meaning. Thank you for reading this long and this far.
See, on the one hand, it's enjoyable to have an audience. I like to be able to tell little stories to people who will never hear my voice. When I started doing this, the web felt exciting and full of promise. I'd go to my college classes and count down the minutes until I could return to my computer and update something. I don't know why it was so important to me, but the new medium thrilled me. It still does, but more on a connect-the-dots informational level than on a creative one.
And yet. I have regrets:
1. I wish I'd written anonymously. It's too easy to track me down.
2. I wish I'd written better, and about better things.
3. I wish I'd shown more kindness, online and in general. I wish I hadn't been so candid about my feelings. I wish I'd been less of a know-it-all. I wish I hadn't been so critical of people. I wish I'd have realized that in judging people, I was shifting my own self-criticism onto others who didn't deserve it. And so, I'm sorry. Sorry to old roommates and sorry to well-meaning professors and sorry to Evan and sorry to Ben and sorry to the goth girl in my art class and sorry to Lance and Dustin and Sena and people from back home and anybody else who I dragged through the dirty dust of this place. I apologize.
Originally I was going to post links to old things that I wrote — funny things to maybe make you chortle — but I feel like I need to do some sort of penance for being such an obnoxious kid. I started writing here when I was 18, and at 18 I thought I knew it all. Somewhere along the line, I realized that (to quote, um, Green Day) all I know is that I don't know nothin'. I'm trying to learn, trying to be a better person, trying to turn mistakes and missteps into meaning. Thank you for reading this long and this far.
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