It’s impossible to say when I made the change, to know who I wanted to be. It wasn’t an instant awareness. It didn’t occur overnight. It took time, months if not years, of living in a state of self-loathing. Living apathetically (and not knowing how to live any other way, no matter how hard I try) isn’t something I would wish on anyone. Caught in a cycle of indifference, with spurts of happiness or sorrow and delightful laughter mixed in, I’m a woman who is aware of her own state of being.
I started this blog, Wandering Worlds, January in the year 2017.
I technically joined WordPress in December 2016.
This isn’t really a topic I’ve actually discussed, something I’ve thought about writing on but never really doing anything. Most blogs have some kind of ‘hey, here I am and this is why I’m here!’ thing going on. Generally when they actually start their blog, yeah, but I guess One Year and Nine Months works just as well. Better late than never, no?
Wandering Worlds: Delving into the Maker
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been telling writing something. Most of what I have made over the years have been stories. On the rare occasion, I would draw (I’m taking an interest in Fluid Acrylic Painting, though I’m not sure if I’ll do it). I even tried learning a few musical instruments (didn’t go anywhere, with that). The gist of it all is my desire to do something creative, but I’m not all that interested in anything that would dampen my creative flow – which is why, I think, music (singing, instruments, etc…) never made it into my life outside of what I listen to on the radio or on YouTube.
From an early age, I was told I’m good at writing. I didn’t really have to polish my writing over the years. It came naturally. Still comes naturally, though my creative imagination isn’t as fertile as it once was (I need to start watching more shit, frankly, to start sparking some ideas). Even though my creativity has taken a hit, more and more often as I got older, there were always people saying I was good at what I did.
“This is really good, Brittany!”
That was a common thing in my family, either for my art in high school or for my writing. My Uncle Terry once told me I should try and make a career out of it, that I could go somewhere. He was referring to my art, not my writing. That was fine by me, though I wasn’t interested in pursuing art as a focus, the sun to my planets, for my life.
As I got older, I kept hitting the same wall. The same issues rose, regardless.
I was writing stories, creating characters, with emotions I couldn’t understand. I’ve read about them, I have books on emotions for characters in writing (an Emotional Dictionary, so to speak, with examples), but the emotions I was carefully placing in my characters were often ones I couldn’t really understand because I haven’t dealt with them.
Which is what led to me WordPress, in the end.
I’ve seen plenty of reviews about it, over the years. I know thousands of people are on here and so many of them are practically famous. They have thousands of followers (how the hell did they manage that, by the way?) and some have made their blog their actual daytime job. I’m not even sure how that works. Or how they managed.
I think we all want to do what we love as our “Forever Job,” but it seems only a select few are able to do so. Me, though? If I could, I’d be the happiest woman on the earth. I’m more of a practical lady, however, and can easily admit to myself that the likelihood of that happening is roughly the same as me winning the lottery.
The odds are not in my favor – I don’t gamble.
I don’t have a niche I write in, anymore. I use to have dozens of flash-fiction pieces I would write. I once did Daily Prompts, but they’re no longer active. I guess the people behind that ran out of words. Every once in a while, I’ll upload a song or a video from YouTube that I like (though no one seems to watch them, as it turns out. Perhaps I’ll put them at the end of the post and see how that goes) and want to share with everyone.
WordPress is about sharing ourselves. It’s about being genuine.
Which is why I have three blogs on this site.
Sometimes I feel like I’m insane, tackling three different blogs all at once. One doesn’t get much work at all, as it takes longer to do anything (The Path of an Asdian Druid) and the other blog, The Lost Nocturne, is a newer blog that I started with a friend of mine. That’s a lot of work, between those three blogs alone.
I also have my own original works I’m trying to work on that I’d like to get published one of these days, though I haven’t worked much on those. I don’t have time. I work every other weekend, I hope to start Sub. Teaching soon at the schools here in my town, and I also have my mum and my sister (and her family) to help out.
On top of that, I also have videos to make for my YouTube channel (Britta Nicole Miller), a channel which was supposed to be for gaming (before my other computer died). Now I use it for vlogging, though I don’t do much there. I’m a boring person, for the most part.
These days, I often feel like I’m sinking into my own head.
Sometimes I just sit on my bed and stare at the wall for a few hours, doing nothing.
Sometimes I want to scream, but nothing gets passed the blank, empty stare I ware.
Then there are the moments when I want to cry, to sink to the ground and pretend all the shit that’s happening isn’t happening. Moments like that, I wish I was back in high school before the world of “adulthood” came at me. I wish I did more in school. I wish I was more conscious of my body and what I was doing to it by eating/drinking all the shit that I put into my body.
I wish, sometimes, I didn’t let some of my old friends walk out of my life.
I wish I said something, anything, before the bridge burned. At least then I would have done what I could instead of not caring.
Sometimes I even wished I was more aware of what I wore, that I took more time to be presentable when I went to school. Wish I did this. Wish I did that. Wish I did a lot that would make navigating the world we are in today a bit easier for myself instead of trying to figure this all out as I go along.
Prepare for the inevitable so I won’t be blindsided.
That’s the great thing about a blog, really. My hands can keep up with my brain. Because of that, I’m able to express what’s going on in my head. I can speak what’s inside me and not care what anyone has to say. These are my thoughts. Why should it matter?
It shouldn’t matter because it doesn’t matter. It never has.
Yet there’s another truth: the only monsters in this world are the ones we, as humans, as a society, create. I don’t believe in Hell or Purgatory or an evil demon or devil out to steal my soul. I don’t believe in the same concept of God most are familiar with, either. What I do believe in, however, is something of a passion of mine.
A fire that will never stop burning.
Wandering Worlds: Passion Caught Aflame
In one of my last posts, I found a quote: Find What You Love, Then Let It Kill You. I can’t remember who said it, or why, but it is something each of us should live by. Passion is a force to be reckoned with. I love to write – not just creative little pieces of fiction, but just about anything I can think of. I have something to say about everything I encounter, even if it’s a simple, “I have no freaking idea what to say about that…”
I have passions.
- Random Photography Moments
- Playing Video Games
Most of what I’m interested in, so are other people. I’m fascinated with spirituality, with spirits and ghosts and souls, with different cultures and faiths around the world, and the Chakra System. I’m studying paganism (with an emphasis on Druidry), I’m learning about the Chakras, I’m learning about my own shortcomings and how to overcome them, I’m writing and reading and dancing in my room (I look somewhat drunk because of all the shit I’m stumbling over…really got to clean this place up).
There’s another quote I found, one that I like a great deal.
Art Is The God You Have Not Seen.
– Marry Butts
There’s something powerful about that sentence. I can’t place my finger on it, but I know it has a big impact on some people. It made me stop and think. Art is the God you have not Seen. After hearing it, I can’t help but think it over. To turn the words over, to try and figure out the meaning, to make it easier for my brain to digest.
Art is God, Unseen.
That’s my conclusion. Every artist, be it a writer or a dancer or someone who goes out and does random things that have no name, is divine. Every person is divine, though I think those who tend to gravitate towards art and its many forms are the ones who are nearest to whatever vision they have of God.
Art is God, Unseen.
For a writer, this phrase is beyond powerful. Every storyteller plays the role of God for they create worlds and souls, they shape history and culture. They bring life and they rain death upon their creations. A writer nurtures what they create. A writer neglects the things which they breathed life into. On the same hand, a writer is also a parent who is more involved with their creations, with their children, because they have to shape and sculpt and build and cut away until the child they bore from the fruit of their mind is, without doubt, an image of divine perfection.
I have hundreds of these children. They’re all over WordPress.
That’s what I wanted, in the end. I wanted to share my creations, to expose them to any who will take a step into the confines of my mind. I write because I can see the world, and its wonders, though the words I create. I can know different emotions a bit better, even if it’s only for a short while. I can confront issues and messes I’ve faced in real life and then solve them, fix them, on paper in words of unchangeable ink.
I write because doing otherwise would be murder.