When I started my blog last year, I definitely wasn't envisioning anything like this. I was imagining me writing quality content that didn't sound like complete bullshit, and that said quality content would catapult me into internet stardom. I would post every day, ideas and inspiration literally bubbling out of every hole in my body. I can officially say that, after a year and a half or so of blogging, I was completely bullshitting myself and needed a good kick to the head in order to be brought back down to reality.
Oh, how I wish someone had kicked me in the head.
I wish I could say that I have no clue why my brain was clouded by reckless optimism and unattainable dreams of success. I wish that I was going through some silly phase, and have learnt from my stupid optimism to never ever think I'll actually achieve the aforementioned success. I'm actually just terrible at everything, and most things I put my hands to turn to shit. So, there's that. And I thought I'd give blogging a go, to show that I can actually put my mind to something without it turning out less than acceptable. I really wish that had worked out, too.
Unfortunately, reality is a sneaky bastard who doesn't have anything better to do than stomp on all my dreams of internet stardom. I want to be great at blogging, just like I want to be great at singing, acting, writing poetry & stories, doing well in school. However, as with everything else in my life, I'm only fairly good (read: eh, she's okay) at those things. It irks me that I can't seem to do really well in life and exceed at least someone's expectations of me (so, maybe I set my goals a little bit too high).
That's my logic for wanting to have a blog that's popular, well liked, and all round enjoyable for my readers. I build up my own expectations, making them ridiculously high, and despite their unrealistic nature, I'm utterly crestfallen when I fail. This is what I like to call my recklessly optimistic streak. I have these fairly regularly, and they're a big change from my usual zombie-like existence in which I tend to avoid all human interaction and emotions. Sometimes, I just feel the need to do well, and my need to succeed (heh) takes up all my time. I have to make that DIY project I saw on Pinterest that one time, it will turn out amazing (it won't). I have to start writing a new 250 page book, I'll finish it and get it published (so not going to happen)!
No matter how many times I go through the 'reckless optimism' cycle, I never learn. Reckless optimism turns to me being productive for a day, my excitement dwindles, I procrastinate, I lose interest, feel guilty and implode with self pity, then force myself to start the whole thing again. I should have learnt by now, and yet here I never do, hence Gypsies & Pixies. Thank you, reckless optimism, for bringing me my blog. An eternal source of happiness, self-hatred, annoyance, and every other dumb human emotion I am forced to experience in this life time.
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