From Scratch

When I first created Evolution Of A Man I was 23 years old and fresh out of college, with little-to-no idea of who I was or what I wanted to do with my life. Blogger (wow, remember that?) and blogging were gaining popularity, and I found the whole sharing-your-thoughts-online thing very intriguing. Fond of journaling and wanting to get my Doogie Howser on, I quickly signed up and created a blog.

At first, I had no vision for what I wanted the blog to be. None. I had very few friends in New York; everyone I knew was back home in California. The blog became an outlet for me to: 1) Have someone to talk to and 2) Keep everyone in Berkeley and L.A. abreast of the goings-on in my New York life. That's it. I remember writing that first post, a State of the Union piece much like this one; then diving into the the who am I ("I'm gay," "I'm sheltered," "I'm insecure") bits; finally settling into cruise control at Wild, Free, and 23. It was a blast!

Somewhere along the way I discovered that I'm actually pretty good at this writing thing. I never saw it coming. I like to talk, and I love attention, so I figured I'd keep going. I amped up my content, writing about practically every part of my life (including losing my virginity on a cruise); commenting on things that were happening in the world; and I even tried my hand at a short story or two. Then, in 2008, I lost my job at Google and decided I wanted to be famous. My mentality and my blog became all about trying to make Evolution Of A Man as popular as possible, so I could use it as a platform to go mainstream and eventually land somewhere around being the next Oprah.  I was a millennial before "millennials" were a thing; pretty much wanting to be famous for nothing. And the advent of social media only made that desire worse.

Le Sigh.gif

Somewhere at the end of 2015 I had a breakdown. Blogging had become this thing I only-sometimes did, just to create a name and a "brand" for myself; whatever that means. I'd write and post something, continuously checked my social media accounts for "likes", and then get sad when they didn't skyrocket. It was bad. Then 2016 happened, and I saw my life for what it really was: desperate.

2016 came with pretty much zero blogging, but a BUNCH of well-earned and much-needed lessons. Most importantly: 1) People can see right through desperation; 2) Comparing myself to other people will NEVER bode well for me; and 3) I'm perfect just as I am, and I should start owning my own awesomeness WITHOUT the need for validation.

Those lessons-learned have been running around in my head for the last couple of months, in this what-will-2017-be period many of us are in right now. Mulling it all over last week I had a thought: I REALLY miss writing. Writing without abandon. Not giving a flying fuck what I write about, who will read it, or who will "like" it on social media.

So I'm going back to basics and I'm starting from scratch.

I'm just gonna write. Whatever comes to mind, about whatever comes to mind. Fearlessly. Like I used to; like I love to. Period.