I’ve neglected you, Sweet Cheeks. Haven’t I?

It’s been ages. Months even. And I’ve got a back-log of links, videos and foodie-excursions to share… so why no posts?

Because I’m a big pansy.

I get major apprehension and anxiety before posting on this thing, and I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around “why” for a few weeks now. I initially chalked it up to some confidence issues that have been plaguing me for the last 6 months or so, and I still think that’s part of it. Life threw me one of those big, massive, “Oh, so you think you’ve got it all worked out, do you? Silly, silly girl!” parties that She is wont to do once or twice in everyone’s life, and it made me question everything and everyone around me, including my own inner monologue. I still have issues trusting other people for fear of getting burned, but somehow it’s the inability to trust myself and my own judgment that has really lingered, despite weekly visits with my therapist, aka Mr-Rogers-Meets-Jim-Henson-with-a-side-of-Bob-Ross-Thrown-In.

He actually looks just like one of my high school boyfriends’ fathers. It is vaguely… comforting. Don’t judge.

Regardless, I’m sick of being scared to sell myself – to not just create, but share me, as a ‘thing’ wholly independent from the artists, the friends and the creative projects I advocate. I spend my whole life evangelizing someone else’s ‘product,’ be it an album, a web app or a brand as a whole; when it comes to making a ‘product’ myself, and then going the extra step and sharing it with the world, hoping someone takes a liking… well, what if no one does?

Now comes the twisted part: Instead of staring that fear directly in the face, I circled the issue a bit, sizing things up, and decided the real reason I don’t write on this damn blog is, well… I guess I just don’t see how what I say is of any interest to anyone else.

Seriously – I just spent the last ten minutes simultaneously writing this post and thinking “who the hell is ever going to read all this self-indulgent drivel, and, you know, ENJOY it?” It feels like… masturbating in front of a bunch of strangers. Is this what porn stars go through, when they spread ‘em in front of the camera those first few months?

So here I am, making a case (to myself and anyone else who will listen) these last few weeks that I don’t blog because I find the exhibitionism and egoism inherent in the very act to be grotesque and unattractive. EXCEPT – that’s not really why I don’t blog at all. I don’t blog because I’m scared I will make an ass of myself, and my psyche can’t handle the imaginary rejection I am convinced is imminent.

What a bunch of horseshit. FUCK it.

Here’s to being a little self-indulgent, even a bit – dare I say it – masturbatory for a while. I’ve got an ego to stroke, and there’s no shame in stroking your own every now and then. Amirite?

MMMMusic MMMMorsel of the Day:

ARTIST: Janelle Monae
Web: www.myspace.com/janellemonae