I’ve had this blog for a year now. Exactly a year, I believe. It started out as a way for me to try subtly impressing everyone–showing off my writing skills and my oh-so-wonderful ideas without being outwardly prideful about it. I liked to think of myself as a sort of Anne Shirley. I was, in a way. I think I still am, though I’ve changed. I’m sassier and more opinionated, which I guess is something every teenager will grow into and out of at some point. Then it became a place for me to pour out all my inspirational, hopeful stuff (see, a year ago, I would have had a problem with putting the word stuff in a post, but I’m looser about it now). My intentions were good, but I think I thought I knew everything when I didn’t. From there, my blog became a place to weep about my horrible past (September and October), then to post random drivel. Most of the posts from November to January aren’t really worth reading, to be honest. Here’s a quote from one of the posts:
“Fruit snacks. Bananas. Music. What is life? Everything is a–I want a cup of hot chocolate. It should be balanced on a plate, so it doesn’t tip over. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Fifth grade. Fourth grade. Third grade. Loser. Losers. Loserette. Loserette isn’t a word. Why does everything have to be changed? It doesn’t make sense. Music. Music. Music. Music. Music. Music. Fruit snacks. We’re out of fruit snacks, aren’t we? Yeah, I checked yesterday. Did I? Yes. Yes. Yes. Music. Fruit snacks. Third grade. First grade. Eighth grade. No. No, not eighth grade. No. No. No. No. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. What is wrong with me? I hate this blog. I’m so uninspired. Goodbye.”
I think that paragraph sums up my depression pretty well, to be honest.
Now, I’m not really sure what this blog is. There isn’t any sort of theme. I’m not trying to be someone I’m not, or spraying sappy hope in everyone’s faces, or ranting. I’m just me, and I don’t really have a theme.
So, happy first birthday to Dauntlessly Cautious (formerly This Crazy Writer)!