I don’t know If you’ll be able to understand what I’m trying to say here as I was just typing what currently is in my head, so I hope you’ll enjoy.
So lately, I’ve been looking through actual blogs to know how to become a proper blogger.
This is my first time to do so, as I never actually cared of what to blog before since it wasn’t that much of a big thing when I made mine.
Now, it seems like it’s already a big deal to everyone, like some of the popular kids back in high school have their own websites, set up their Instagram pages for them to have a blog-y feel. Ever since then, I became insecure of my blog because I thought it wasn’t good enough.
I have already done this previously to other sites, such as Twitter and Plurk, to become as popular as they are.
But then I realized, I post stuff different from theirs. I have interests opposite theirs.
Well, sure, I also have a thing for wanderlust and nature and shit like that, but I’m more of a person who doesn’t rely entirely on any external inspiration for my posts, unlike the others, whose posts are nothing more than fashion and the places they go (no offense. I think those are cool, not only because they’re really cool, but those are the kind of things that I couldn’t really afford).
I mean, they have to spend so much on those things so that they could make interesting posts like road trips with high school friends, island hopping and celebrating fiestas. They even got loads of stuff to add the spice to every thing they post about such as beauty hauls, SUVs and planes trips.
A lot of people nowadays, too, have already thought that blogging is only for people who are photographically artsy. They think that the purpose of this kind of thing is mostly for images beautiful enough to capture a person’s attention.
For others, a blogger is someone who posts the wonders of the world using the art of photography.
But no. For me, that’s not how blogging entirely works.
For me, this is the kind of thing open for anyone, especially those who wanted to share their thoughts and feelings to the world without really exploring, well, THE world.
I am one of those people.
I used to hide in my shell, not opening my mouth and let a word about what I feel escape. I was too afraid that I might say something embarrassing, or I might badmouth people behind their backs.
The only thing that helped me get through those times without daring to speak, without daring to be humiliated, without daring to be truthful about what I think about the others, without daring to hurt someone’s feelings, was through writing.
Ever since I made this blog 3 years ago, I never stopped writing down things that I wanted to show the world, may it be a form of an essay or a short story or maybe a poem, although I never had a chance to since most of them are already lost somewhere.
Although I search for different images online for inspiration (and also post slightly artsy photos on Instagram, mind you), what mostly compose my thoughts are “what if’s”, which will be followed by imagination later on.
Sure, most of the things are ideas from things that happen around me, but I didn’t need those in their entirety to make something else up. What I do is deduct them into smaller pieces and make up situations just to make my own little world.
Because, to be honest, it’s not the others that you focus on.
It’s all about you. All you need are your innermost feelings, your innermost thoughts that you desire to share the most, and you’re off.
You don’t need any sugar coating to make it beautiful just for everyone’s eyes.
You’re you. Everything is already beautiful about you.
So it doesn’t matter whether you’re a traveler or a fashion guru or a popular kid to make a blog–your blog– happen because nothing could stop you from getting out and connecting with the rest of the world with just your own true self.
What are you waiting for? Go type in what you think and let the whole world know about it.
Don’t forget to tell me, though, if you’re reading these, because however short my time is, I will read your stories. Promise.
Your Introverted Friend,