“I want to become a spectacular thinker and writer. I want to see the world clearly, and write persuasively. I aspire to write like the people who inspire me to write.”
Thank you! I struggled writing and reflecting about this at first, especially in trying to find a "pure" motivation. Remembering my inspirations really cleared it up for me: I want to be more like them (at least for the traits I admire in them.)
Nothing wrong in having an ego. Mine is massive. I know genz likes to say - do it for the plot. But I do everything for my ego - to prove to myself more than anything else that I can. And it’s brought me really far.
That's super fair. I've never really liked my ego, which is also of an above average size (hah), but it has definitely brought me places I wouldn't have made it to otherwise.
I prefer not to be motivated by my ego, though. I feel like there's a trap somewhere in there: if I satisfy my ego, I lose my motivation, but if my ego is unsatisfied, I'm unhappy. I would prefer to be happy and still do things. But then the only option left for me is to achieve enlightenment.
Also, I’m atheist-agnostic. I just think that the Buddhists are right about most things regarding the mind—I’m not talking about enlightenment in the religious sense, I’m talking enlightenment in the sense of freedom from unnecessary suffering. Secular Buddhism, I guess.
I’m going to do a poor job of explaining this, so I won’t try too hard, but afaik Buddhism says there are two types of suffering: suffering that is inherent to the world, and suffering that we inflict upon ourselves though worldly attachment. We can influence how much of the latter we feel, and significantly reduce our suffering that way.
For example, you might stub your toe and feel it hurt. The literal sensation of pain is unavoidable. But different people experience different amounts of suffering when they stub their toes. Some people curse and swear and get really mad and it derails the next hour for them. But what I’ve found with Buddhism is that given enough practice, you can eventually stub your toe, feel the pain, and not really be mad about it. And once you reach that point of removing the instinctual “I don’t want to feel this” that you associate with pain, pain really doesn’t feel that much like suffering anymore. I still try not to stub my toes, so it’s not like I’m free from worldly desires, but when it happens, it happens. That’s how I’m conceiving of enlightenment personally.
I’m still working on trying to apply this to the rest of my life. I’ve gotten it in some small aspects, like those minor one-off physical pains. But I really hate being sick and all the more internal psychological or meta-level attachments—like caring about my job, caring about status, dealing with my ego in general—still have intense amounts of self-inflicted suffering attached to them in a way that short sharp physical pain does not anymore. (Also I really hate being sick so there’s that)
The book on Buddhism I’m reading right now is called Turning the Wheel of Truth by Ajahn Sucitto is excellent. I’ll probably write more about it eventually.
I’m so sorry you’re (were?) unwell. That must suck.
I disagree with Buddhism completely on suffering. I believe suffering is an accident and as such I don’t get upset over it. I feel whatever pain I feel but a paper cut is a paper cut.
And I say this as someone who spent 3 years with a mystery illness that turned out to be easily if steadily curable. What happens happens. Can’t spend my life curating it to avoid pain.
I’m going to do a poor job of explaining this, so I won’t try too hard, but afaik Buddhism says there are two types of suffering: suffering that is inherent to the world, and suffering that we inflict upon ourselves though worldly attachment. We can influence how much of the latter we feel, and significantly reduce our suffering that way.
For example, you might stub your toe and feel it hurt. The literal sensation of pain is unavoidable. But different people experience different amounts of suffering when they stub their toes. Some people curse and swear and get really mad and it derails the next hour for them. But what I’ve found with Buddhism is that given enough practice, you can eventually stub your toe, feel the pain, and not really be mad about it. And once you reach that point of removing the instinctual “I don’t want to feel this” that you associate with pain, pain really doesn’t feel that much like suffering anymore. I still try not to stub my toes, so it’s not like I’m free from worldly desires, but when it happens, it happens. That’s how I’m conceiving of enlightenment personally.
I’m still working on trying to apply this to the rest of my life. I’ve gotten it in some small aspects, like those minor one-off physical pains. But I really hate being sick and all the more internal psychological or meta-level attachments—like caring about my job, caring about status, dealing with my ego in general—still have intense amounts of self-inflicted suffering attached to them in a way that short sharp physical pain does not anymore. (Also I really hate being sick so there’s that)
The book on Buddhism I’m reading right now is called Turning the Wheel of Truth by Ajahn Sucitto is excellent. I’ll probably write more about it eventually.
I’m so sorry you’re (were?) unwell. That must suck.
I disagree with Buddhism completely on suffering. I believe suffering is an accident and as such I don’t get upset over it. I feel whatever pain I feel but a paper cut is a paper cut.
And I say this as someone who spent 3 years with a mystery illness that turned out to be easily if steadily curable. What happens happens. Can’t spend my life curating it to avoid pain.
Hi. Found my way here after Todd restacked a quote from this piece. Coincidentally, I posted a piece on legacy a few hours before Todd posted his piece. But that piece doesn’t discuss why I write.
In short (and I just learned this after finding some old stuff and going down a GPT rabbit hole) I went from writing for myself to writing to be seen to writing as a representative of others, trying to anticipate my needs to writing for myself.
As for why I post publicly (and always have), I want people to see it and I want to see how many people want to see it. And after a previous GPT rabbit hole, I have a rough idea of the upper bound of my subscriber count based on my skills and posting schedule. But I now also have a better idea of what’s popular and what’s not and why, and even though I could, in the words of Jay-Z, “dumb down for my audience and double my [imaginary] dollars,” I think the current version of me will be fine with writing for myself rather than writing for the crowd and being grateful for whatever audience actually wants to read stuff that I wrote just because I wanted to write it, rather than whatever I wrote just to chase clicks.
Thanks for reading and commenting! Curious what the GPT rabbit hole was, and how you decided what your subscriber count upper bound was.
You know, I'm not so sure about the dumbing down thing. We like to tell ourselves that it would be easy to sell out and make a million bucks posting the same AI gruel as everyone else, but I suspect that it's a lot harder than we think—we only see the successful posts.
Nice reflection! Always thought Nora seemed like the type to give good advice. One of my more recent Neglected Draft Ideas was actually to ask my Substack mutuals about why they write & compile the responses into a post. Anyways, I will now compose an inappropriately long & self-indulgent answer to the question posed because the desiccated husk that is my finals week brain demands resuscitation.
Some reasons I write, in no particular order:
1 - Love of the craft. I only recently remembered this, but I actually quite liked writing as a child. Or, at least I liked fourth grade English with Mrs. Clary. I remember trying really hard to achieve a sort of tasteful variation in my five-paragraph narratives & expositories: tinkering with sentence length, figurative language, vocabulary, etc. Still a guilty pleasure of mine. The process literally takes forever though, and so my subscribers are generally forced to wail and gnash their teeth and ruefully accept whatever half-baked phrases I toss their way.
2 - It helps me do serious thinking. If you’ve seen that Henrik Karlsson piece about how ‘looking’ should precede writing (ok tbh I only read the free paragraphs), then yeah, totally agree. I am a pretty literal thinker. If you ever catch me trailing off my words or staring at the distance—1% chance it’s due to anything resembling intelligent thought, and 90% it’s because I’m mentally constructing a TikTok POV of whatever’s on my mind.
If I want to, for example, do serious thinking about some state tax cut, it might go like: “Ok, I am a state politician making a tax cut. Tax cut. Tax cuts are made in…bills. Right, legislative bills, and this bill is posted online. Probably lots of people keep tabs on these bills, including businesspeople.” And then, “Ok, now I am a businessman. I have people working for me, they’re called subordinates. My subordinate keeps tabs on these bills because I told him to, probably, this seems like good practice. He sees this tax cut bill, online, and it’s relevant because we are opening a new branch, location TBD. He’s a good subordinate, most likely, so he tells me about this tax cut. Now, I tell my analyst to run the numbers to compare finances between locations. He has to make a spreadsheet to crunch numbers. Ok, so what sorts of numbers go in the spreadsheet, and what might he do with those numbers? To answer that, maybe I need to think of what numbers he might want to output from the spreadsheet, and why. And who the numbers are going to.” And then, “Ok, now I am an analyst…,” etc. etc. etc.
This is obviously a bit of a contrived gloss on what actually happens in my mind, which is a much faster & less coherent mish-mash of images, intuitions, impressions, words, and math. It’s also a particular style of thinking only engaged when seriously evaluating a specific issue, during which I try to reduce reliance on abstract concepts, which usually just confuse me. Anyways, these chains of thought are somehow both too concrete & too vague, and I find it necessary to generate & examine many such scenarios and possibilities (‘looking’) before I can extract any exacting, coherent, and/or generalizable ideas.
3 - It’s a satisfying cross between taking a poop & having a baby. I’m sorry I don’t think vulgarity is very funny but I literally can’t find better words to describe this. Henrik Karlsson told me to look, okay, and I’M LOOKING! Since my best thoughts happen to be transmitted as a multimodal stream of consciousness, it’s almost impossible to clearly convey them to others without first straining to digest & extrude.
I swear to god the attention dilution visualization from my data bottlenecks post haunted me for months. I literally felt mentally constipated because I saw this image but just couldn’t get across to people (or myself, tbh) exactly what I was raving about until I hunkered down & wrote it all out, top to bottom.
But of course when I’m done with the labor I’m like wow :) Very cute. Lemme give you a nice name & check on you obsessively. I will show you off to many people who only mildly care, and I will be subtly miffed if they don’t think you’re a wonderful lil guy.
4 - I think my ideas are rare & special. Cringe, perhaps, but you know what I always say: all artists must be egotistical & selfish, otherwise they wouldn’t be artists (woohoo!). In fact, I believe my ideas might be good enough to positively influence the world, at least someday. A true belief? We’ll see. For now, Substack is a nice place to curate all the ego & pomp for current and future reference.
5 - Selective status harvesting machine. I honestly don’t (emotionally) care much about whether or not ten thousand Joe Schmoes like my stuff (no offense intended to the Mr. Schmoes reading). But if my smart friends like it, such as the eminent Harjas Sandhu? Yum yum. Someone who is well-known-ish within my circles?? Yum yumyum yum yum yum yum yummy.
6 - Nobody can take it away from you, ever, ever, ever, even Nazis. Honestly, reading the passage from Man’s Search for Meaning about how nothing in the past can ever be lost or taken away from you was a life-changing perspective shift for me. I tend to devalue the past a bit, like when I do stuff I tend to be like “ok cool🙂…eh😐”.
But just read this: “In the past, nothing is irretrievably lost, but rather, on the contrary, everything is irrevocably stored and treasured. […] It is true that the old have no opportunities, no possibilities in the future. But they have more than that: Instead of possibilities in the future, they have realities in the past -the potentialities they have actualized, the meanings they have fulfilled, the values they have realized -and nothing and nobody can ever remove these assets from the past.”
Of course, Frankl had this realization after the Holocaust took everything away from him—everything except the past. I’ll (hopefully) never have to endure anything close to the horrors he faced, but it’s still an immense spiritual & psychological comfort to know that I’ve written & published posts that I’m proud of, and that there exists no human nor inhuman force in the universe that can ever take that accomplishment away!
My god your comment totally could've been its own blog post.
1 - It's funny—I used to hate the craft. When my mom found out that I had a Substack, she teased me about it, because apparently I always used to complain about writers block as a child. But I always loved arguing with people.
2 - This is also my main argument for journaling! In my head, it's like only being able to do mental math versus being able to write down your calculations and check for silly errors. When you can see your thoughts without having to simultaneously hold them in your head, it's much easier to evaluate them.
3 - I like dialoguing my conversations with people, but when I want to get across the most concise version of my argument, it usually needs some about of editing first. Every so often, I get a magical Scott-Alexander-like post that gets banged out in two hours and sounds like I'm talking to you directly, and that's really cool. The more I think about something, the smoother it'll get on a page. Trying to write using voice memos also helps with this.
4 - I feel the same. I often have to remind myself to read other people's takes on what I'm writing about just to make sure that my thoughts haven't been said before.
5 - YES!! One of the coolest things about blogging has been interacting with people who I would normally never get to talk to. A lot of high profile riders are astoundingly willing to interact with me in their comments sections, which I am really grateful for.
6 - Also super yes. I have the bad ADHD tendency to pick up and drop hobbies at the drop of a hat. I don't has much to show for many of them—I'm OK at chess, I can sort of play riichi mahjong decently, I am barely a runner anymore, etc. But even if I eventually stop blogging, all my posts was still be here as proof that I did it. (I feel similarly about music—everything I've ever made is sitting on my laptop for whenever I want to return to it. I really need to back that shit up somewhere)
Hot damn, I love this:
“I want to become a spectacular thinker and writer. I want to see the world clearly, and write persuasively. I aspire to write like the people who inspire me to write.”
Me too. Me too.
Thank you! I struggled writing and reflecting about this at first, especially in trying to find a "pure" motivation. Remembering my inspirations really cleared it up for me: I want to be more like them (at least for the traits I admire in them.)
Nothing wrong in having an ego. Mine is massive. I know genz likes to say - do it for the plot. But I do everything for my ego - to prove to myself more than anything else that I can. And it’s brought me really far.
That's super fair. I've never really liked my ego, which is also of an above average size (hah), but it has definitely brought me places I wouldn't have made it to otherwise.
I prefer not to be motivated by my ego, though. I feel like there's a trap somewhere in there: if I satisfy my ego, I lose my motivation, but if my ego is unsatisfied, I'm unhappy. I would prefer to be happy and still do things. But then the only option left for me is to achieve enlightenment.
Buddhism it is.
Couldn’t do religion, even if it came, dressed up like Chris Hemsworth. So pursuit of happiness, it is.
Suspicious comma placement…
Also, I’m atheist-agnostic. I just think that the Buddhists are right about most things regarding the mind—I’m not talking about enlightenment in the religious sense, I’m talking enlightenment in the sense of freedom from unnecessary suffering. Secular Buddhism, I guess.
Afaik Buddhism is not freedom from suffering but acceptance that suffering (dukka) is pretty much all that life is. Couldn’t be me….
I say nothing about my comma placement 😌
I’m going to do a poor job of explaining this, so I won’t try too hard, but afaik Buddhism says there are two types of suffering: suffering that is inherent to the world, and suffering that we inflict upon ourselves though worldly attachment. We can influence how much of the latter we feel, and significantly reduce our suffering that way.
For example, you might stub your toe and feel it hurt. The literal sensation of pain is unavoidable. But different people experience different amounts of suffering when they stub their toes. Some people curse and swear and get really mad and it derails the next hour for them. But what I’ve found with Buddhism is that given enough practice, you can eventually stub your toe, feel the pain, and not really be mad about it. And once you reach that point of removing the instinctual “I don’t want to feel this” that you associate with pain, pain really doesn’t feel that much like suffering anymore. I still try not to stub my toes, so it’s not like I’m free from worldly desires, but when it happens, it happens. That’s how I’m conceiving of enlightenment personally.
I’m still working on trying to apply this to the rest of my life. I’ve gotten it in some small aspects, like those minor one-off physical pains. But I really hate being sick and all the more internal psychological or meta-level attachments—like caring about my job, caring about status, dealing with my ego in general—still have intense amounts of self-inflicted suffering attached to them in a way that short sharp physical pain does not anymore. (Also I really hate being sick so there’s that)
The book on Buddhism I’m reading right now is called Turning the Wheel of Truth by Ajahn Sucitto is excellent. I’ll probably write more about it eventually.
I’m so sorry you’re (were?) unwell. That must suck.
I disagree with Buddhism completely on suffering. I believe suffering is an accident and as such I don’t get upset over it. I feel whatever pain I feel but a paper cut is a paper cut.
And I say this as someone who spent 3 years with a mystery illness that turned out to be easily if steadily curable. What happens happens. Can’t spend my life curating it to avoid pain.
I’m going to do a poor job of explaining this, so I won’t try too hard, but afaik Buddhism says there are two types of suffering: suffering that is inherent to the world, and suffering that we inflict upon ourselves though worldly attachment. We can influence how much of the latter we feel, and significantly reduce our suffering that way.
For example, you might stub your toe and feel it hurt. The literal sensation of pain is unavoidable. But different people experience different amounts of suffering when they stub their toes. Some people curse and swear and get really mad and it derails the next hour for them. But what I’ve found with Buddhism is that given enough practice, you can eventually stub your toe, feel the pain, and not really be mad about it. And once you reach that point of removing the instinctual “I don’t want to feel this” that you associate with pain, pain really doesn’t feel that much like suffering anymore. I still try not to stub my toes, so it’s not like I’m free from worldly desires, but when it happens, it happens. That’s how I’m conceiving of enlightenment personally.
I’m still working on trying to apply this to the rest of my life. I’ve gotten it in some small aspects, like those minor one-off physical pains. But I really hate being sick and all the more internal psychological or meta-level attachments—like caring about my job, caring about status, dealing with my ego in general—still have intense amounts of self-inflicted suffering attached to them in a way that short sharp physical pain does not anymore. (Also I really hate being sick so there’s that)
The book on Buddhism I’m reading right now is called Turning the Wheel of Truth by Ajahn Sucitto is excellent. I’ll probably write more about it eventually.
I’m so sorry you’re (were?) unwell. That must suck.
I disagree with Buddhism completely on suffering. I believe suffering is an accident and as such I don’t get upset over it. I feel whatever pain I feel but a paper cut is a paper cut.
And I say this as someone who spent 3 years with a mystery illness that turned out to be easily if steadily curable. What happens happens. Can’t spend my life curating it to avoid pain.
Hi. Found my way here after Todd restacked a quote from this piece. Coincidentally, I posted a piece on legacy a few hours before Todd posted his piece. But that piece doesn’t discuss why I write.
In short (and I just learned this after finding some old stuff and going down a GPT rabbit hole) I went from writing for myself to writing to be seen to writing as a representative of others, trying to anticipate my needs to writing for myself.
As for why I post publicly (and always have), I want people to see it and I want to see how many people want to see it. And after a previous GPT rabbit hole, I have a rough idea of the upper bound of my subscriber count based on my skills and posting schedule. But I now also have a better idea of what’s popular and what’s not and why, and even though I could, in the words of Jay-Z, “dumb down for my audience and double my [imaginary] dollars,” I think the current version of me will be fine with writing for myself rather than writing for the crowd and being grateful for whatever audience actually wants to read stuff that I wrote just because I wanted to write it, rather than whatever I wrote just to chase clicks.
Thanks for reading and commenting! Curious what the GPT rabbit hole was, and how you decided what your subscriber count upper bound was.
You know, I'm not so sure about the dumbing down thing. We like to tell ourselves that it would be easy to sell out and make a million bucks posting the same AI gruel as everyone else, but I suspect that it's a lot harder than we think—we only see the successful posts.
Nice reflection! Always thought Nora seemed like the type to give good advice. One of my more recent Neglected Draft Ideas was actually to ask my Substack mutuals about why they write & compile the responses into a post. Anyways, I will now compose an inappropriately long & self-indulgent answer to the question posed because the desiccated husk that is my finals week brain demands resuscitation.
Some reasons I write, in no particular order:
1 - Love of the craft. I only recently remembered this, but I actually quite liked writing as a child. Or, at least I liked fourth grade English with Mrs. Clary. I remember trying really hard to achieve a sort of tasteful variation in my five-paragraph narratives & expositories: tinkering with sentence length, figurative language, vocabulary, etc. Still a guilty pleasure of mine. The process literally takes forever though, and so my subscribers are generally forced to wail and gnash their teeth and ruefully accept whatever half-baked phrases I toss their way.
2 - It helps me do serious thinking. If you’ve seen that Henrik Karlsson piece about how ‘looking’ should precede writing (ok tbh I only read the free paragraphs), then yeah, totally agree. I am a pretty literal thinker. If you ever catch me trailing off my words or staring at the distance—1% chance it’s due to anything resembling intelligent thought, and 90% it’s because I’m mentally constructing a TikTok POV of whatever’s on my mind.
If I want to, for example, do serious thinking about some state tax cut, it might go like: “Ok, I am a state politician making a tax cut. Tax cut. Tax cuts are made in…bills. Right, legislative bills, and this bill is posted online. Probably lots of people keep tabs on these bills, including businesspeople.” And then, “Ok, now I am a businessman. I have people working for me, they’re called subordinates. My subordinate keeps tabs on these bills because I told him to, probably, this seems like good practice. He sees this tax cut bill, online, and it’s relevant because we are opening a new branch, location TBD. He’s a good subordinate, most likely, so he tells me about this tax cut. Now, I tell my analyst to run the numbers to compare finances between locations. He has to make a spreadsheet to crunch numbers. Ok, so what sorts of numbers go in the spreadsheet, and what might he do with those numbers? To answer that, maybe I need to think of what numbers he might want to output from the spreadsheet, and why. And who the numbers are going to.” And then, “Ok, now I am an analyst…,” etc. etc. etc.
This is obviously a bit of a contrived gloss on what actually happens in my mind, which is a much faster & less coherent mish-mash of images, intuitions, impressions, words, and math. It’s also a particular style of thinking only engaged when seriously evaluating a specific issue, during which I try to reduce reliance on abstract concepts, which usually just confuse me. Anyways, these chains of thought are somehow both too concrete & too vague, and I find it necessary to generate & examine many such scenarios and possibilities (‘looking’) before I can extract any exacting, coherent, and/or generalizable ideas.
3 - It’s a satisfying cross between taking a poop & having a baby. I’m sorry I don’t think vulgarity is very funny but I literally can’t find better words to describe this. Henrik Karlsson told me to look, okay, and I’M LOOKING! Since my best thoughts happen to be transmitted as a multimodal stream of consciousness, it’s almost impossible to clearly convey them to others without first straining to digest & extrude.
I swear to god the attention dilution visualization from my data bottlenecks post haunted me for months. I literally felt mentally constipated because I saw this image but just couldn’t get across to people (or myself, tbh) exactly what I was raving about until I hunkered down & wrote it all out, top to bottom.
But of course when I’m done with the labor I’m like wow :) Very cute. Lemme give you a nice name & check on you obsessively. I will show you off to many people who only mildly care, and I will be subtly miffed if they don’t think you’re a wonderful lil guy.
4 - I think my ideas are rare & special. Cringe, perhaps, but you know what I always say: all artists must be egotistical & selfish, otherwise they wouldn’t be artists (woohoo!). In fact, I believe my ideas might be good enough to positively influence the world, at least someday. A true belief? We’ll see. For now, Substack is a nice place to curate all the ego & pomp for current and future reference.
5 - Selective status harvesting machine. I honestly don’t (emotionally) care much about whether or not ten thousand Joe Schmoes like my stuff (no offense intended to the Mr. Schmoes reading). But if my smart friends like it, such as the eminent Harjas Sandhu? Yum yum. Someone who is well-known-ish within my circles?? Yum yumyum yum yum yum yum yummy.
6 - Nobody can take it away from you, ever, ever, ever, even Nazis. Honestly, reading the passage from Man’s Search for Meaning about how nothing in the past can ever be lost or taken away from you was a life-changing perspective shift for me. I tend to devalue the past a bit, like when I do stuff I tend to be like “ok cool🙂…eh😐”.
But just read this: “In the past, nothing is irretrievably lost, but rather, on the contrary, everything is irrevocably stored and treasured. […] It is true that the old have no opportunities, no possibilities in the future. But they have more than that: Instead of possibilities in the future, they have realities in the past -the potentialities they have actualized, the meanings they have fulfilled, the values they have realized -and nothing and nobody can ever remove these assets from the past.”
Of course, Frankl had this realization after the Holocaust took everything away from him—everything except the past. I’ll (hopefully) never have to endure anything close to the horrors he faced, but it’s still an immense spiritual & psychological comfort to know that I’ve written & published posts that I’m proud of, and that there exists no human nor inhuman force in the universe that can ever take that accomplishment away!
My god your comment totally could've been its own blog post.
1 - It's funny—I used to hate the craft. When my mom found out that I had a Substack, she teased me about it, because apparently I always used to complain about writers block as a child. But I always loved arguing with people.
2 - This is also my main argument for journaling! In my head, it's like only being able to do mental math versus being able to write down your calculations and check for silly errors. When you can see your thoughts without having to simultaneously hold them in your head, it's much easier to evaluate them.
3 - I like dialoguing my conversations with people, but when I want to get across the most concise version of my argument, it usually needs some about of editing first. Every so often, I get a magical Scott-Alexander-like post that gets banged out in two hours and sounds like I'm talking to you directly, and that's really cool. The more I think about something, the smoother it'll get on a page. Trying to write using voice memos also helps with this.
4 - I feel the same. I often have to remind myself to read other people's takes on what I'm writing about just to make sure that my thoughts haven't been said before.
5 - YES!! One of the coolest things about blogging has been interacting with people who I would normally never get to talk to. A lot of high profile riders are astoundingly willing to interact with me in their comments sections, which I am really grateful for.
6 - Also super yes. I have the bad ADHD tendency to pick up and drop hobbies at the drop of a hat. I don't has much to show for many of them—I'm OK at chess, I can sort of play riichi mahjong decently, I am barely a runner anymore, etc. But even if I eventually stop blogging, all my posts was still be here as proof that I did it. (I feel similarly about music—everything I've ever made is sitting on my laptop for whenever I want to return to it. I really need to back that shit up somewhere)
Happy to help u out comrade, excited to see where ur writing goes in the years 2 come
Why only the next 2 years?? Ominous…