So I shared… Baby steps

I did it. I made a move and didn’t take it back. I shared some of my recent drug blogs. The ones I write when I’m wasted. It may be an importanmt note to mention I did not read any…

I did it. I made a move and didn’t take it back. I shared some of my recent drug blogs. The ones I write when I’m wasted. It may be an importanmt note to mention I did not read any of them. They are the raw transcripts of my drug trip from one night in the past 2 months.

I just handed 8 of my friends close enough to trust with that. I get a bad feeling when I irritate or inconvenience so sharing is a big ask for me. It’s asking for a confirmation.

Am I crazy, or … well, I don’t need to be genius…

I don’t want to be famous.
I just want a few fans.

My writings come in a variety of styles, but when I’m writing on weed, they tend to be a continuous stream of my thoughts. I have learned to think at the speed of my fingers and write it out in words.

I live life like a DVD comentary. Multiple levels of thought. In my writings, I often include sie stories and behind the scenes secrets about what I was thinking at that moment. Becauise of the way I think, I have the greatest sucess when I can keep a minimum of two active thought process going. I listen to thye radio while I work as an example. Silnce is way to distracting.

I have had experience with this kind of a share respence before. It’s not the first time I’ve given somebody my writings with the hope of at l;east hgearing; No Jeff… you’re not crazy.

My memory has more “I liked it” responces than negative ones for recal… but the majority of people you shjare your work with, say nothing.

My brain imediatly creates a visual scenario cut scene. It stars the person I shared with, either aloine or with a friend. They speak… OMG. Jeff is asking me to read all his stuff now, and he writes a lot of ong stuff. fuck. What do I do?

This fictional adaptation my mind has provided is easy to believe as reality because it’s exactly what I’d probably do. It’s probably the right reaction. Only a crazy man gives …

ding

Another example… Joy brain is choosing the nagtive story. I convinced myself I was wrong, and only a crazy person would ask a friend to read their unfinished horrible experimental work. Tell me what you think of my poetry is considered a statement of torchure on some worlds.

Mid way through, joy delays and switches sides. Like a witness about to testify then sees a threat in the audience and then claims to have forgotten.

My fear of rejection and failure is so strong, it has made me regret sharing, because the opening day reviews may not give me the praise I crave, but crush me with the reality of failure.

My confident voice says; Bulshit. I hardly ever swear, so it’s dramtic. I am confident in my current position. I want to progress. I need to share. I need to learn.

I need to be crushed, and then get back up.

Pride needs a win.

The silince of the wait is hard. If they don’t have anything good to say,

Oh look, a zeppelin
Man yesterday was hot, wasn’t it?

End.