let's start at the beginning and then deviate completely

How annoying is that? Surely it's too early in my blogging career to have writer's block as soon as I'm confronted with a big white empty bit. I genuinely had amazing and fascinating things that had been swimming around my brain. Damn. I'm going to have to buy myself a moleskin and write things down as I think of them. I will have to surgically attach it to myself though because I'm really quite good at leaving things behind just when I need them most. I have about ten notepads which all contain various splurges of inspiration I never ever remember to collate or carry. Nothing of much value to anyone of course, but nobody ever writes creatively for someone else. It's about satisfying some part of you; some bursting wordy part all squiggly and confused that won't shut up unless you unsquiggle the squiggles and scribble. 

I found a few poemy things I had written at the tender ages of 13 through 15 while clearing lots of other things. They're  dramatic and space-filled. I don't mean they have gaping holes, I mean they often involved planets and stars and galaxies and love. It's quite strange reading back actually. It just shows how no matter how much you avoid something ( I study foreign languages at university ) it still manages to spill out. Literally or virtually. Perhaps I should have taken a different path and studied English. It's far too much of a cliché to truly satisfy me though. And, despite my character convictions, I couldn't bear the looks from adults as I told them. At least when I tell them about German and Spanish they make an expression which implies they're impressed. How self-conscious do I sound?! This identity thing really is a bit of an issue actually. I'm genuinely struggling with it. Thinking of a name for my blog, or a display name, or an email address, or a password or whatever other form of creativity the internet demands of me for identity purposes, always stresses me out. Not to a major degree like my sister borrowing my favourite Sonic Youth t-shirt without permission, but more like sifting through Alpen taking out all the banana bits kind of stress level. You see, for me, the words you choose for these little details all are demonstrative of your personality in some way or another. How you use capital letters, those (hugely chavvy) little black love hearts, squiggly lines, spelling mistakes, abbreviations - they all add up to create an instant impression on which you'll be forever judged. Even your Bluetooth name or what you called your iPod - it's all a huge deal and a talking point if it's out of the ordinary. The thing is, the only thing that is out of the ordinary is being ordinary. Charlie Brooker wrote about how to be a 'mental' teenager is to be a boring teenager because the ordinary teenager is mental. So when my friends noticed that my iPod is simply called "Hannah" and not "CrAzY4PaOlOnUtInI2k7" or something equally shit, it was discussion worthy. I disapprove.

So my creative vessel for those few moments in which I find myself compelled to write will not be in some ordinary alternative colour; it will not discuss the nights out where I've woken up in a camper van in North Berwick next to a 15 year old drug dealer who only eats spaghetti hoops with vodka; it will not have spelling mistakes; it will not go on and on about how shit my life is; it will (rarely) complain; it will not be of an unbearably pretentious ilk and finally, it will be as unplanned and spontaneous as any vaguely inspired mind. My blog will be an individual because I am an individual (but not in the wanky definition - just the exclusively singular kind), but I cannot deny that there is every chance I sound like a billion other people out there. But in every comparison fault is found: because we look for it. We look for fault in other people to make ourselves feel superior and provide us with confidence to survive in this author-eat-author/blogger-eat-blogger world. Best of luck. 

(I am still going to buy a moleskin notepad. This blogging thing will never catch on)