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I Don't Know What To Say (For Once in My Life)


Nothing like starting off your Wednesday with an extremely vague and dramatic blog post title, huh? Also, who would have thought that I would ever utter the words "I don't know what to say." Really ironic coming from someone who truly lives out the Italian stereotype of being incredibly talkative and not really knowing when silence is the most necessary.

I thought my bout of writer's block was over once I changed the blog layout, but I was clearly mistaken as I've missed several blog posts since. Whoops. I'll hold myself responsible for that entirely. I'm still going through those periods where I come home from work and I'm just too exhausted and devoid of all creativity that the idea of writing a blog post that night or the next morning is just not even an option for my brain.

In reality, this is only about half of the issue. I mean, okay, writing is like a majority of the issue but you have to have things to write about. Well, based on the shit that I've posted on this blog, maybe that's debatable but...

I digress, part of my struggles boil down to the title of this post: I don't know what to say. I have 40+ ideas written down in my one of my notebooks and half a dozen fully fleshed out that just have to be written. And yet, I still have those moments where I just don't know what I should be talking about or want to be talking about. Some posts are easier to write than others. Then there are times when I see my ideas outline and fleshed out and just sort of sit and stare and blink at the screen in hopes that words will just appear and I don't actually have to physically write it all out.

The ideas I have written out just don't feel like enough, at least not right now. I'll likely look at them two weeks down the line and will have a moment of inspiration and write out thousands of words about like, Tinder or some shit like that. But for now, I'm sitting and staring at my notebooks wondering what I can make of these things that I have written down and what I can truly say about them.


I'm a woman of many words (see: I don't shut up and talk a mile a minute), but even I have my moments! The words may come back to me, but sometimes I just spend more time thinking of what I want to say based on the ideas I already have. Or, I just wonder if it's something I even want to talk about at all. Does it warrant a blog post? What is my blog? What is writing? I end up falling down a rabbit hole of questions that hinder my creative process of using the word trash as many times in a post to refer to myself for entirely no reason at all.

While I'm still working out this whole writer's block thing that is mostly just caused by over-exertion at work while trying to do the job that eight people used to do, I think I need to be kinder to myself and my brain and maybe spend more time doing other things creatively than trying to churn out three posts a week. Which like, is entirely my fault for choosing that schedule. I'm thinking that two posts a week will suffice and is more than enough of my bullshit spewing out onto the internet.

Maybe if I have more time to think, I'll have more to say. Or maybe I still won't have anything to say. In reality, I'm a 23-year-old who spends her time watching Vine compilations, putting on liquid eyeliner, and lusting after Niall Horan. Perhaps my brain will come up with some content over the next week. Stranger things have happened, like when I swore for years I'd never wear anything besides skinny jeans and now every time I squeeze my thighs into a pair of jeans that contain more spandex than denim, I think I actually break out into hives (there's that dramatic side again).

Photos by Austen Tosone

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