Starting Line

Dear me

Will I ever get this right?

I'm here because nobody listens to me. And so I begin this blog in such a self-judgmental manner. I tell myself: I will write here, I'll have them read, I'll say things of relative importance, and they'll tell me what they think about what I've said. I want my words to be out there. I am so scared. I can't deny it.

The picture is of me, a very small me, sitting on a sidewalk curb under orange lamplight looking up and surrounded by four very tall apartments with balconies and windows and somewhere in there are eyes (how many pairs of eyes I know not) looking at me looking very small feeling very small.

But my words are out here now. Isn't it wonderful? I am talking as if... I want your feedback, dear cyberspace, and tell me, how I can release myself of this morbid fear of seeing my words in print to be read?

All I have to do is click 'post' and I can see how it looks. It can't be so bad.

You are laughing at me. I know. I am so paranoid.

Plunge.