In This Together.

There’s something that I’ve learned about bloggers over the years:

We’re all a little insecure.

We want to be authentic, but we’re afraid of opening ourselves up because we’re afraid that someone’s going to take a stake to our heart.

We stop writing because we’re afraid that our writing is not good enough and then come groveling back because we can’t stand not writing anymore.

We try to rationalize our feelings, swinging from one branch of feeling to another, as if we need to justify to others why we aren’t writing. Or painting. Or creating in some way or another.

We go from writing too much, to not writing at all. And yet we still write.

We still write because we want to be heard. We want someone to tell us that we’re alright.

And we are alright. We are still here, you and I.

We are here together.

If you need to take a break, I’ll still be there. I didn’t come this far with you just to come this far. I will still read your writing even if you need some time off to focus on yourself. Because God knows we all need to boost our morale.

It’s okay.

It’s okay to be uncertain. It’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling. I’ll waiting for you, for that next post. I followed you because you write quality, not quantity. You find the words to describe how I’m feeling in just a way.

I feel the insecurity. I’ll write and write and write. And then I’ll stop because I’m feeling insecure. I’ll then write and write and write about how insecure I’m feeling about my writing and obsess over why I’m not as good as any others. People actually have things to write about, I say, and then pull back. They travel, they cook, they get involved with their communities.

I just live an average life.

An ordinary life, you would say.

I wanted to show that living an ordinary life could be extraordinary. You didn’t need to travel extensively or cook fancy meals every day or be especially literary with fancy words. I wanted to show that a small, normal, ordinary life could be just as worthy as any other blogger, writer, x successful person.

And yet I got sucked into the belief that I need to be something in order to write about it. I needed to do things, be extraordinary. And yet–

And yet that was tiring.

It was boring. I’m not that sort of person to put myself out there underneath the spotlight all the time.

I am quiet. I can be weird around people that I most want to talk to. I get awkward. I’m by no means as confident as I make myself out to be.

And yet here I am…still writing. And people are still following.

Thank you.

Thank you for following me. And if you write a blog, thank you for writing. We’ll find our footing. We’ll get to the other side.

We’re in this together.

This is partially inspired by Chris Nicholas’ post “Epoch” which you can read here if you’re so inclined. Give him some love, he deserves it, I’ve never met a bad piece of writing from him.


The Greatest Music in the World.

This is where it begins:

In the toes as they start to tap. A tingle rushes up through the body until your head starts nodding and your body starts swaying and your hands are clapping. The music is catching. You watch as even the musicians close their eyes and dancing around the stage, instruments pressed against them as if the music could could come out more in with a passionate fervor.

I turn to her and say, “You want to go up there and dance?”

“No!” She exclaimed.

“Oh, come on,” I said, “it’d be fun.”

“No!” She protested.

The women next to us turned and said “You want to go? It’ll be fun.”

She laughed and finally agreed. We went off to the side and she got into her dancing routine. I pretended to know what I was doing, twirling and clapping. The energy pent up finally released. I glanced at the stage and saw him there, smiling at us having fun, his hands plucking out the notes with ease. We were dancing to his music and he was glad. His music made us feel.

A few young ones went to the front. They danced however they wanted, as if no one could ever see them move in such a way. I locked eyes with him, a young man with twinkling eyes and curly hair. He smiled and I returned it before twisting back towards my friend. He wants to dance with me, I thought.

He danced around me all nice, brushing up against me, watching me in my little bubble. Some of us never have the courage to dance, even with the greatest music in the world.

Via Discover post: The Greatest ___ in the World


Sometimes I forget why I followed someone. A blog, a person on Twitter, Pinterest.

They’ll show up in my feed one day and I’ll think, “Who is this? Why do I care? What made me interested in the first place?” Sometimes it takes a while to remember, especially if they don’t post or share very often. Or I’ll go through my blog list and think, “I don’t remember this person, why did I follow them to begin with?” And sometimes I’ll unfollow.

I suppose this is a given that people change over the years. You follow someone intensely, then they get busy and you forget and then all of a sudden, you remember them. Or they just never come back again. And eventually you’ll just take them out of the list altogether. What we were once passionate about suddenly shifts into another direction.

It’s not anybody’s fault. We just change. We stop writing. We stop reading. We completely change domains. We’re as fickle as the road that winds through the forest. It shows us its darkness, then brings us light and chirping birds. It meanders before taking a sharp turn back and loops around.

You never know the surprises around the corner.

Via Daily Prompt: Forest


I wouldn’t call myself inhibited, but I’m not the type of person who readily tells you about my life.

It can be said that authenticity is revered, but how much can I tell a person about a self that is strange even to me? My thoughts, emotions, experiences shift and change in a day and in a moment. How I live my life might not even be something that others would approve of. People aren’t as open to authenticity as they pretend to be. Unless you agree with them about how life should be lived then life isn’t worth living.

So how authentic are you to your friends, your family, your co-workers, the world?

I think it depends on you and your level of comfort. There’s no such thing as the right way to live.

Of course, you shouldn’t be closed off, you need to be able to discuss certain aspects of your life. And yet should a memoir shouldn’t be written and lectured in every situation. Some things should never be talked about.

Writing is especially hard for me to do sometimes. Authenticity is required. It needs to be real and comfortable and open so that I can connect to my readers. But how much is too much? I don’t want to give you an itinerary but neither should I spill out everything into the dark crevices of my mind. Even I need a safe space where I stand and say, “Not here.”

Have I been authentic enough for you?

Via Daily Prompt: Authentic

Words I Hate.

There are two words that absolutely irritate me:

    Pass away (and it’s variants of passes/passing away/passed away, etc)

For some reasons, the word “chat” never seems like a real word to me. Whenever I hear it I want to tear my ear drums out and never hear it again. I feel like it’s a word that people use to show they’re more educated or are superior to other low life, every day people. You’re not special just because you’re prettying up a word. If you want to talk to me use the word “talk,” for crying out loud. You’re still giving me information. I’m still hearing it. Don’t “chat” at me about it, or I’m going to tell you how I really feel. (Or just look at you passively aggressively.)

As for “passing away,” I never understood why people prettied up death. Everybody dies, why are you making it sound like the person’s merely falling asleep? The person has died, therefore you need to tell other people that this particular person has “died” or is “dead.” He’s dead. Leave him dead. That’s all there is to it.

There’s a saying in the writing world that basically states that if you keep using extraordinary words, then you won’t have any words left when you see or hear something truly extraordinary. Say things simply without dressing it up too much. And that’s how I want to try and keep it.

Let’s talk about it. What are your thoughts?

Balance and Art.

I’ve got seven pages left in my journal. I decided to end it there.

It’s no secret that I journal. It’s been happening since I’ve been about eleven or twelve. Rarely, though, have I written on a daily basis for any length of time. In the last year or so, I’ve made more of an effort to write daily and it’s been taking a toll on me recently.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of writing daily. I feel like I’ve run out of things to say and now I’m just randomly saying things just to fill the pages and meet my quota. I’m not progressing with my written word and I’m tired of pushing myself when writing is boring.

If you don’t read and write daily then you don’t improve yourself as a writer.

But does too much effort make you burn out? Do you get tired of pushing yourself to improve? Is rest just as valid as work?

When I’m not writing or reading, I feel guilty for not doing so. But when I am, I’m thinking of all these other things that I’d rather be doing. This is normal of course, but how much is too much?

This is probably why I haven’t been reading much this year. I don’t want to read because people are expecting me to read. I want to read because I love to read and lately that’s become a chore. Same with writing.

I don’t have anything else to say to that effect. Rest is rest. I go over the same things because I need to validate myself and comfort myself in the fact that what I’m doing is the right thing. I’ve gotten back into blogging though and I think I’ll always enjoy my blog. But like all things, I don’t want to burn myself out over it.

I read about the big YouTube burnout. All the successful YouTubers have been pushing themselves so much to get the next video out and earn money that they’ve dropped everything else about themselves in pursuit of keeping their channel going. Phillip DeFranco made a point when he stated that there’s nothing wrong with hustling hard and pursuing you’re dreams, but don’t push yourself to the brink of exhaustion where you realize you’re forgetting the rest of your life. If you need to take a week’s vacation and lose a week’s views, it’s better to do that than keep pushing until you break and then you’re channel falls apart because of it.

The moral of the story:

Learn to balance. Find a schedule you can work with. Experiment if it gets too much. But make sure it’s a schedule that you can work with and learn to step away at times in order to become more creative. Life is balance.

People Who Stop Blogging.

I used to blog on Blogger. Or is it Blogspot? I don’t know. That blogging platform that Google owns. Yeah. That place.

The original blog isn’t there anymore. I don’t think I remember what it was called to be honest.

About a year or so ago, I started a new blog on there because I thought I wanted to revert back to that platform but never did. I have a lot of followers over here now and it’d be silly of me to abandon it all. Not to mention I can’t get Ordinary Travels as a domain name on Blogger. That’s why I originally came over here to be honest. I wonder if the writer of the Blogger Ordinary Travels has found my blog here and gotten mad that I made the name (fairly) successful.

Who knows.

I don’t care anymore. Or do I? It’s a question one will never know.


So I’ve been thinking a lot about people’s writing habits over the years.

I went onto Blogger today and noticed that the few blogs I have in my reader over there no longer write. They have their blogs up still but they haven’t written in at least a year. And that makes me sad. Because I really did enjoy reading what they had to say. They had different lives than I did and it was interesting to see how they view the world.

There have been a few blogs that I’ve followed on WordPress as well that have kind of dropped out of the blogging realm. I had another friend blogger who has announced both blogs are going to be deleted in the next couple of weeks because it’s hard to keep up these days.

I don’t know why people decide not to write on their blogs anymore.

It’s like they’ve lost steam.

I’ve lost steam with writing before. But I’ve always come back (eventually.)

It makes me wonder why I continue to write. Why AM I writing? Why am I even writing? I’m writing to people, but do I even know you? The people that I wanted to continue to see write aren’t writing anymore. I’m sad.

What’s the big deal, anyway? Even the one word prompts that WordPress did to inspire people to write no longer exists. And that really helped me out a lot when I honestly couldn’t think of anything to say but wanted to.

I need to stop now. It’s none of my business.