India Alessandra

I use to ask myself would anyone care about the work I was doing? A question which has slowly evolved into doI care about the work I am doing? It makes no difference if no one else cares about my writing or creative dreams, but if I do care it changes everything. If I do care than it is a thing worth doing. 

So, I set this blog up when I created my website for a University assignment. I thought the expense of paying for a professional looking website with a blog attached might help my career. I thought I’d practice my writing skills, maybe gain a few faith readers, and perhaps even a job offer could float along. But none of these things have happened. Because, well – I hate writing on my blog. Anytime a thought along the lines of ‘maybe I should I write on my blog’, I quickly stomp it down with the don’t be ridiculous lecture of a stern parent. Write on this blog? Don’t be absurd! Due to this unhealthy (and perhaps even insane) mental discussion, any motivation to create a post for this blog has long been lost and the website remains depressingly neglected. 

To be perfectly honest, I’m embarrassed I even have a blog. I mean, what is lamer than having a blog? Having a blog that no one reads. Nobody even gives a shit about this blog – not even me. Quite pathetic really. But, I’m beginning to take pity on it. Perhaps this unlovable orphan presents an opportunity to me. This blog is like my little secret. I can write whatever I damn well please. I can treat this blog like a void. An empty, lifeless void in which I shout my ideas and thoughts into. There’s a strange freedom in not giving a damn. No expectations from loyal readers to produce the same old content they know and love. No pressure that I could destroy a career with one dumb joke or comment. There is nothing to destroy in the first place. No career or extensive body of impressive works. Just endless opportunity. 

So, I’m committing to this blog. At least two posts a week must be uploaded onto the blog. Quality will be sacrificed for quantity, just like everything else in this capitalist nightmare (rant on capitalism will most likely feature as a future post). And I will lean into the fact that no living (or deceased) soul gives a rat’s arse about what I write about. The content matter and medium types will most likely swing more erratically than your drunk uncle’s mood. A terrible poem will sit comfortably alongside an unimaginative story about a talking bruise. But as the old saying goes ‘when no one gives a shit, life creates another blog’ or whatever that expression is…