I'm a terrible blogger. No one can believe that while I consider myself a writer, I don't blog. Why don't I blog? I have a lot to say. Maybe there's less appeal when I can't hear my own voice. Maybe I feel it will just be lost in a sea of opinions on the internet. Honestly, I'm not one to reason it out that well. I don't blog because I'm lazy. Because for so long, it didn't feel like serious writing. I was reserving my writing skills for academics and the imaginary novel I pretend to write sometimes. So I'm not a blogger.
I'm a writer who doesn't write. I'm a poet, but no one reads poetry. I'm a musician who doesn't play an instrument anymore. I'm waiting for special things to happen to me because I am, obviously, special. So I read other people's blogs while I think that it might be a good use of their time, but my writing should be reserved. For what? Am I afraid to run out of words? I'm positive that I have never been accused of having too little to say.
Blogging may not have the inherent classiness of an anthology of poetry and it may not have the prestige of academic journals, but I can't go on being a writer who doesn't write--it turns out, that means you're not a writer at all.
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