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Sunday, April 17, 2011

Further Thoughts on my Relationships with Writing, Writers and the Internet.

Rachel pours her heart into her blog, but not with the outcome she'd hoped for.
Earlier this month I wrote a post entitled "I Know Now that There's Nothing Here for Me Anymore." It was difficult to write, involving some revelation of emotions I've been grappling with. Like all of my posts, I wrote it to clear my mind and develop my sense of self and beliefs, yet also with the hopes that *perhaps* it would lead to some renown, with the article going viral and everyone identifying with it. Hence, even though the post was about my assertion that I don't need to win anyone over, I still hope to do so, and here I am, sharing my vulnerabilities with the Internet once more.

First, I clarify that I have never received hate mail or comments in response to my work. I say this particularly because those of you familiar with this photo of Rachel Berry know it is from the Glee pilot scene in which she reads hateful comments Quinn and Santana have posted on her MySpace page. In posting the photo, I have no intention of implying I have been cyber-bullied, nor of diminishing the pain of those who have been. I chose the photo because I do relate to how it feels to want and dream and feel there is no social outlet in which to release those emotions.

Second, I have received support for my work from people I've met on- and offline. One of the closest friends I've made online reached out and told me she liked "Nothing Here for Me" and its ending. I am so appreciative of her and everyone who has reached out and taken an interest in what I have to say.

Still, it's hard not to feel like I'm in countless others' shadows, including the writer I refer to in "Nothing Here for Me." She receives messages about her brilliance and how she articulates what others are feeling perfectly. It seems anyone who has a credible interpretation of a movie or television show shares it with this girl for her thoughts. And rightfully so, hell I've written much of her fanmail. It's just - am I shallow for wanting that for myself? For hoping that people would relate to me and my deepest longings and wishes and that maybe they'll tell me that, even though I would never wish my anxieties for anyone?

I probably will always feel insecure of myself and my thoughts and opinions, yet I'm developing a new mindset. Rather than submitting my ideas to someone to see if he or she agrees with them, as if that were a form of validation, I'm going to just write them down. If I'm not as smart as any pop culture critic or social commentator, I'm certainly just as dedicated. My analyses or opinions may pale in comparison to others out there, but at least they're mine, and no one can take that from me.

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