My own Confidence Fairy

Posted on December 13, 2012

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Apologies to Paul Krugman for stealing his line.

I have a cowering arrogance, a sublime confidence in my abilities coupled with a sometimes crippling surety of failure.  Actually, the surety of failure goes beyond sometimes.

I will wallow in a pit of my own making and the knowledge that it is of my own making does nothing to alleviate the despair I build for myself.  There are days when I can see no light.

But I know myself and  I know what I can achieve if I allow myself to do so.  It is the allowing that is difficult.  Expect the worst and all your surprises will be pleasant.  What goes unsaid is that always expecting the worst wears your soul to a nub, destroys ambition.

To those who would say buck up, I say, thank you, now fuck off.

This is all a shameless grab for attention.  Putting your thoughts on the web is always a shameless grab for attention.  If you want to write and keep it private scribble in a diary.  Then tear the page out, burn it, bury the ashes and sow the land with salt.

I can say I don’t want a pat on the head but that’s a lie.  Of course I do.  We all want commiseration.  But that doesn’t mean I should expect it or get it.

So I will vent.  I will scream my futility into the gale and move on.

There are two ways to improve your writing.  The least of these is to read, everything.  Which I do.  The greater, and most important, is to write.  Write something, trash or treasure, but write.  Throw it to the wilds and see if it can fend off the wolves.

Ninety days at a minimum to form a good habit.  Ninety days.  I have made a promise to myself and to those of you who were kind enough to follow these first feeble scrawls.  Ninety days of writing, good, bad or indifferent.

Except weekends.  I’m not a masochist.

That is all.

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Posted in: Me, Writing