Post 1: Origin Story
Sophomore year brought to you by peroxide, Sun-In, and hours sunbathing on a midwestern roof
Origin Story
Ok so I’m finally committing to writing a blog. A blerg. This blergity blerg. I’ve been saying I’m thinking about this for at least two years now and then feeling like the spat out surprise tendon in your chicken when I spend time scrolling through Twitter, Insta, and even makes-me-want-to-fall-into-a-deep-depression-Facebook instead.
But here I am. If this blog was a superhero, the following swirl of circumstances have brought it into its shiny costume, hands on its hips becoming one with the sunrise atop a cliff.
A tarot card reading told me I have a fire in my belly and should try new things over the next 6 months because it will set the stage for the next two years. I silence my skepticism for the only positive premonition of my life, lapping up the unwavering certainty of mystics that don’t pull death cards.
As my physical voice slips away I am convinced writing could be a way to showcase my wit and preserve my voice well after I die. Speaking of which people don’t talk about dying enough so there will be d-bombs here.
When I was in high school I was invited to AP English. I stubbornly refused because I wanted to remain with the other slackers in Ms. Rossi’s class - a teacher layered in beads and flowy patchouli scented patterns who would knit while cajoling free thinking out of a sea of slugs barely sticking to the laminate desks, about to slide off. But really I declined the invite because I was afraid of failure and too 15 to be aware of it. So this is my redemption AP class if you will (here’s where you say “I WILL”).
I finally feel like I have something worth writing about. There is a lot of raw emotion and literary fodder in a slowly-paralyzing-you-to-death disease. I also hear writing helps bring to light hard feelings and thoughts thereby softening them to be digestible.
The masses have been clamoring for this. Ok so it’s actually 2 or 3 friends who periodically say “so what’s up with your blog? Are you still doing that?” To which I say “Still thinking about it. Can we dig into your dating life?”
I have a lot of time on my hands (ironically). Since I can’t sculpt anymore or take up a mid-life crisis activity like pole dancing for exercise, I may as well explore writing as a creative outlet.
My aim is to sound like me and tell you what this experience, living with ALS, the worst of diseases, is like.
Let me know if there are any topics you want to hear about because I’m a bit nervous I’ll run out of things to say. I say hear instead of read because I hope you will hear posts in my old voice, the one I miss so much that now there’s a tear rolling down my nose telling which is telling me I’m on the right track beginning this blerg.