Do you sometimes feel like giving up?
Almost every week.
Here is my 200th post.
Which finds me, again, unsure, over going on.
This blog was started, as it will probably end, in sadness.
From being unwell, and the last of our family line.
Realising the flat would simply be cleared
(thus art, poetry, writing, totally destroyed)
after my death,
I decided to commence a cyber memorial.
For lost life, ruined by chronic illness.
I did not know enough about blogging to notice the flaw in my idea.
People normally only visit around the day of publication.
Then, until adding new material, views fall away toward zero.
Resulting in that very oblivion I hoped to avoid:
A dead site.
Sinking, forgotten, beneath the vast digital ocean’s surface.
Recently, I have another worry: political correctness and censorship.
Since thrown (by poverty plus sickness), into an inner city underclass environment,
my prose reflects lived experience.
Language is often raw.
Subjects include anti-social behaviour, abuse, aggression, bullying, crime, noise nuisance, stupidity and violence.
I’m a victim of all these.
(Eventually driven from three different homes as a consequence.)
Now, perceiving such topics contain potential to offend,
when preparing to edit past work involving them most
(while seeing reports of entire sites deleted without warning),
makes me quite anxious concerning how much I should self-censor?
As this blog is my sole public voice, I don’t wish to endanger its survival.
Fearing a return of that silent isolation, where the journey began.
It would be interesting to hear your opinion?
Thank you for reading.
( anxiety / art / blog / culture / depression / life / mental health / photography / poetry / prose / reading / thoughts / writing )