White Tea & Sage

I’ve decided to have bad writing

when I started this substack I was setting a new standard for myself, I had this passion for writing and commentary, and although I had little to no real experience writing creatively (I am dyslexic and I thought reading and writing were just there to kick my ass) and I decided to do this writing in a public way so that I could get feedback to become better (even though no one is reading this)

and I treated it like an actual thing. like something that was going to be my job something that I was required and committed to this non-existent audience of my opinions, my thought, my art. Once I wrote my first piece I had been tearing my brain apart trying to find something else to talk about, and despite all the ideas that randomly popped up in my head I threw away all of them in my subconscious trash because I thought I needed to do something more sophisticated, more interesting, something that will tell you I’m smart.

and randomly as I’m sitting here kinda high off my ass I realized I can do whatever the fuck I want

I don’t owe this non-existent audience anything I don’t need to be good I just need to be fulfilled, fuck being sophisticated, or smart, or clever, or drowning in metaphors, and symbolism, and references. This page is based on what I want, what I want to talk about not for the people who aren’t even reading this, recently I’ve been finding out that most of the things I do are for the validation of people who half the time don’t even exist to me

Of course, my art should be for ME, and I feel stupid for ever thinking otherwise so fuck my non-existent audience this isn’t for you.