“How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”
I write for a lot of reasons. Mainly to unload my own shit, dig through it, and make sense of my thoughts. To problem-solve. To rant. To worry myself to a conclusion.
But, on this blog, there is the added goal of sharing my experiences. To what end? Well, because I think stories connect us.
In fact, I think stories are at the heart of human existence, and that without them, we would no longer be “human.” We tell our history through words and pictures, and though, as humans, we are flawed in our visions and versions of what we see and what we experience, it does not make those shared experiences any less valid.
My purpose in this blog is to use it as an outlet for my own creative expression (fiction, poetry) and to share my consideration on some issues and share my life (personal narratives/essays). The thing that has been lacking, and that I struggle the most with is the “mundane” details of my life. BUT…if this blog is to truly live out its calling (as it’s title portends), how are you to truly understand the erotic life of Brigit Delaney if I do not write the “mundane” details?
I wrote in my last journal entry that I want to push myself to write more…to share more…to open up more. This is not just for me. It’s so that my story can be whole, rather than fragmented. Bits of fiction and poetry and memoir, polished for consumption do not tell the whole story. Letters and spoken words (my new and sorely neglected podcast – which I WILL spend more time on, now that my life is back in order), diary entries, photos, and conversations. All of these things tell the story of a life. And I want this blog to be a more complete picture of my erotic and “ordinary” life. Intentionally, I leave out details that pertain to others. I cannot write about everything for an audience.
But, I also know that this blog is something that my Husband uses to understand me. He reads my entries and ferrets out the important pieces, questions me further.
It’s a useful thing.
A necessary thing.
I write because I must. I write because writing is like breathing.
When I stop writing, I suffocate on my own thoughts.
A few weeks ago, the prompt for Food For Thought Friday was “The Why of Blogging.” I, of course, missed it. But, this would have been my response.