On Being Good


I don’t want to blow my own trumpet (I do) but I know I’m a good writer. I know I enjoy doing it, from start to finish. I appreciate other people’s work, and like reading that too. And I also enjoy critiquing people’s work too – probably a little more than I should. So why is it that I can’t ever seem to make myself write, even if I want to. Why can’t I ever just sit down and let it out?

It frustrates me because if I have uni work or something similar, I can sit down quite easy and just get work done. But if I want to just do it for the fun, write a story or even a blog post – my attention drifts off. The only reason I’m writing this post now is because I’m on a train with no reception and no distractions.

That’s probably answered my question right there – everything distracts me. I typed everything letter by letter then.

E V E R Y T H I N G.

Even if I do write something, something not for my blog – a story for example, I never do anything with it. It just sits in my documents and collects metaphorical dust. (I just stopped writing for 15 minutes because I got reception on my phone and also a cute Spanish lady was on the phone and I was listening to her voice). One of the biggest things I hate, or what scares me, is people reading what I write. If I’m sat with someone and they mention reading my blog I’ll either crawl up and stop speaking or rip their phone/laptop away from them so they don’t read it. I hate hate hate knowing someone might not like my writing.

I think most people have this kind of complex with themselves. Everyone has one of those talents that – when it all boils down to it, is quite a normal thing to do. Even if it isn’t, I think everyone is scared of being judged for something they think they’re good at.

If you’re good at something, are you good at it even if no one knows? Are you good at it even if you get no recognition for it?

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