It has been several weeks since I posted a life update. Things have been very busy, and I’ve used the blog (lately) to post samples of my academic writing, my poetry, and a few short stories – but nothing personal about me, the “optimist.”
(Perhaps I’m due for a rebranding…)
Sometimes I wonder what the audience of this blog wants. Per my Dashboard, I now have over 1,300 followers.
Can that be real? Are 1,300 people truly interested in what I have to say? I’m not sure what answer I want, but it’s a question worth asking.
I doubt it. I don’t say that as a cynic, but as a realist. I’m really not that interesting. I tend to bore myself, so entertaining more than a thousand people seems unlikely.
Why do you visit this blog? Do you enjoy the occasional short story? Do you seek the darkness in my poetry? Do you find it interesting that someone as outwardly bubbly and optimistic as myself finds so much joy in exploring the unpropitious areas of her soul?
Do you even visit anymore?
Perhaps I write for an audience no longer in their seats. You walked into a big theater, intrigued, perhaps by the frenetic movement or a melodious sound, and took a seat.
At some point during my performance, perhaps you lost interest. Maybe you checked your watch, scrolled through Facebook on your phone, and eventually ducked down the dark lane, bee-lining for the exit.
If there is still one person sitting somewhere in the darkness, and they haven’t fully dozed off, I guess I should keep the show going, right?
This isn’t a poem. This isn’t a story. This isn’t a paper on Hemingway, Kerouac, or any other writer whom I’ve learned to critically analyze in the last few weeks. This is about me.
I am well.
I am watching my to-read pile grow bigger and bigger. I dream of a stolen hour to finish just one of the four books I am in the middle of now. Just one.
I am learning.
I am working too much, and it’s beautiful.
I am growing.
I am not angry, but I am not the woman I once was.
I am evolving.
And the show must go on.
~ Victoria Elizabeth