Problems I have with blogging

I just can’t seem to keep up with it. I have so many drafts of blog posts I’ve written but never quite finished or never published. I found a draft of a post I wrote about a concert I went to two years ago. What am I supposed to do with that now? Post it? Delete it? Write a new post critiquing the old post? I don’t even know.

My problem is I’ll start writing something or think about writing something, but by the time I actually get around to posting it, it’s no longer relevant. Or even less relevant than it was to begin with. Especially when I write about something in the news or some event. If it’s been over a month since it happened, should I even bother anymore?

Maybe I’ll post them anyway. Since they’re there. My timing is horrible. I’ll go weeks with nothing, and then post five things in two days. But better late than never, right?

Blogger friends, I need your help

Blogger friends, do you know if it’s possible to create a new blog but transfer posts from my old blog to the new one? Or to change my blogging name & website? Or any advice you would give me if I’m thinking of starting over? Thanks!

It’s been a while. I think I maybe wrote two blog posts last year. If you can call them blog posts when they’re that short. I would like to start over. Most people try starting over in various aspects of their lives on January 1st, the start of a new year. But I’m not most people. I wasn’t ready in February either, nor March. But what better time to start over than on April Fool’s Day? Since I often feel as though my life is one big joke, I thought it seemed fitting. And if you know me at all, you know that I’m a very honest person, so my wanting to blog again is no joke. There are many aspects of my life in which I would like to start over and figure things out.

I really feel like I need a new title. Random and unnewsworthy was sort of an inside joke type thing that I just randomly came up with after talking to a friend. It’s like that Grade 8 email address you made when you got your first hotmail account and you’re kind of ashamed of it now because what the hell were you thinking with a name that dumb? And you’ve since, I would hope, created a far more professional email address which now includes your name. I remember I originally just wanted to use my name for my blog title. Because why not? And my friend convinced me not to. But is that bad an idea?

So again, any advice you could give me would be so appreciated! I miss this and since I finally updated my iPhone to iOS 8, I may be able to blog with more ease. But I don’t want to just sporadically leave random posts on this blog. This blog is old news. Or old unnews, I guess. I need to figure out something new.

Is there such a thing as blogging depression?

You know how when a person is depressed, they feel lack of motivation and the things that they once enjoyed no longer interest them?  I’ve kind of been feeling that way about blogging.  It used to be easier.  It used to be so effortless.  Now sometimes it just seems like a chore.  A chore that isn’t even necessary really.  And so I keep putting it off.  And no one knows when it will ever get done.

I don’t know why I feel this way.  It’s not what I want.  I do want to gain back that joy that writing once brought me.  I want that excitement I once felt just thinking about it and looking forward to being able to write.  Now and then it does cross my mind, but then I come up with excuses as to why I can’t do it or I don’t have time.  And if I do happen to have a free moment, I fill it with other things.  I’m always out doing something.  And when I do have that rare time at home, I give up and concede that my time would be better spent watching TV.  When the hell has anyone’s time ever been better spent watching TV?

So productivity as far as blogging goes is now at an all time low.  I’m not really sure how to get it back up to a reasonable pace.  And I’m not really even sure what a reasonable pace would be.  But definitely more often and more consistently than I have been lately.  Setting a schedule doesn’t really work for me.  Randomness is how I function best.  Although randomness hasn’t been working for me either as of late.  You know how you tell a lazy person to get up off their ass and go do something?  Would it be the opposite for me?  Like I need to sit my ass back down and stop whatever I’m doing and start writing again?

When a person is depressed, they begin to wonder whether they even matter to anyone and what the point of their life is.  Similarly, I wonder whether this blog even matters to anyone and what the point of it is.  Is there a point?  Although I’ve never actually cared about it having a point.  And I have had a few people ask if I’m still blogging or say that they enjoyed some of my previous entries.  But is that enough to motivate me to continue?  It should be.  But I’m not sure if it is.

Is it ironic that after I went to a blogging conference, I kind of stopped blogging?  Not as a result of it, but coincidentally I suppose.  I always blame time.  I have no time.  I was recently talking to a friend about how I didn’t understand how she had time for everything she does.  And she told me that she doesn’t, she just forces herself to do things.  Which I totally understand.  I used to be like that.  I still am, in many aspects, just not with blogging anymore.  A lot of people would tell me that they didn’t understand how I had the energy to work full time, take classes, volunteer, blog, and still go out as much as I do.  And the truth is I really don’t have the energy.  I’m tired all the time.  But I force myself to still do all the things I want to do.  When something is important to you, you make the time for it.  Right now I’m just wondering how important blogging really is to me.

If you’re a blogger or a writer, I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from.  And it’s not even writer’s block.  Or blogger’s block, or whatever you want to call it.  Because I have ideas.  I haven’t even written properly about Vegas yet.  And you know how important Vegas is to me.  Time remains a key problem for me.  And the lack of motivation stems from me doubting my abilities as a writer.  I feel like I used to be better than this too.  I am better than this.  So why won’t it show in my writing any longer?  I know everyone has self doubt at some point, no matter how good they are.

I think I’m going to try and find the time for this.  Try, being to key word.  Wish me luck.  Or don’t.  Are people actually more likely to accomplish something if someone tells them “Good luck”?  Does that really ever change anything or make a difference at all?  Also this is very small life goal.  Of course I could be putting my time and my efforts into bigger and better things than trying to start writing again.  But whatever, I can choose to focus on this for a moment if I want to.

Well, it would appear that I have now written a blog post.  Kind of wordy one.  And possibly whiny.  Is it whiny?  I can’t actually tell.  I’m hoping it’s not because I hate it when people are whiny.  Does this fact that I just wrote a blog post mean that maybe I’m taking a step towards coming out of my blogging depression?  Only time will tell.

Roses are red…

The other day, I was looking through old junk in my room. It still looks like a bad episode of Hoarders in there. But at least I tried. I also found some really old journals. I haven’t kept a diary since high school. So naturally I began to read through some of them. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there, as I’m sure you can imagine. Was I really as stupid as those pages would indicate? Apparently so.

I also used to write poems. I thought of myself as somewhat of a poet. But I guess lost that at some point along the way. What a tragedy to the world. I could have been as epic as Keats or Wordsworth or Shelley or Browning. Or Shakespeare or Byron or Burns or Tennyson. And yes, I’m totally just naming poets whose names I remember from my English Literature 12 class. And you know what, some of them wrote random odes to things too. Robert Burns wrote “To a Louse“. I kind of think my odes to my umbrella and my phone are more meaningful that that.

But the poems that caught my eye in this old journal were the simple ones. I had a few pages where I had come up with my own versions of the “Roses are red” poem. Because why wouldn’t I? I think at some point everyone has come up with their own versions of this poem, whether they be good or bad. Side note, did no one ever realize that violets are actually violet, and not in fact blue? I mean it’s right there in the name of the flower. I’ve always had a problem with that. But anyway, I won’t share all of the versions that I came up with. They weren’t all that great. But I will share with you the one that I’ve now deemed as my favourite:

Roses are red.
Water is clear.
You’re still ugly.
I need some more beer.

Yeah. I should really get a job writing for Hallmark.

I’ve been neglecting my one true love

Surprisingly, I’m not even talking about TV. Shocking, I know. I love more than just TV. Even if I do often refer to it as my boyfriend. And no, it’s not my phone. My phone had a chance but it just keeps disappointing me. And it’s not food either. Or shoes. Or strippers.

So who or what am I talking about? Let’s face it, it’s obviously a what. Of course I would never express my love for an actual person. What do you take me for, a normal human being? Clearly that’s not the case.

What is my one true love? Writing. It always has been, though we have drifted apart at certain times in my life. But I am always happy to reconnect with it.

I don’t know why I haven’t had the time lately. I don’t think I have any more of a life right now than I did at this time last year. And I feel like I was writing a lot more at this time last year. It’s hard to find a balance between life and writing about life.

It’s sad that when I do have free moments in time, other things will often win out over writing. Like watching TV. I guess it’s because TV requires no effort from me whatsoever and can be completely mindless. Not that I don’t often sit and write mindlessly, because I do, but it’s a different form of mindlessness. And I feel better about it. Unlike watching TV, writing allows me to be a part of the process, and to have accomplished something in the end. It doesn’t even matter if it’s good or if anyone reads it. All that matters is I’ve done something that’s my own.

Unlike shoe shopping, or any kind of shopping, writing costs me nothing. Except time. But I enjoy that time immensely. Some people think it’s a waste, but I don’t think anything is a waste if you enjoy it. I think it would be more of a waste for me not to write.