Abby Westover

Oh hai, I’m making an appearance in this blog thing again.

Initially I set this up so I would have a place to write. I don’t know why I thought it would work out. I do write a lot, but I feel a need to keep it all to myself. There’s something about putting my words on display that makes me feel vulnerable. There’s something about MY words that I hate. Every time I write something, I end up wanting to cram it down the shredder. I’ve always had this attitude about all of my creative discharge. The drawings, the photographs, the rhymes, the music. I make it, then I look at it, then I cringe. It’s never what I want it to be. It doesn’t communicate the way I intend it to. I try to elicit a smile; I’m compensated with blank stares. I try to be serious; I get laughed at. I try to teach; I sound arrogant. I try to make something beautiful; it’s average. I aim for clarity; I churn out dull simplicity. I go for honesty; I’m dark and twisted. Knowing that these are the reactions I’d get, I reserve myself. I do what I have to do then I protect it from other people. I keep telling myself I don’t need anyone else. It’s my work, and I’ll get the most out of it, even if I have to do it alone. I see this not as an act of selfishness or pride. It’s just a product of my insecurities and negativity. I argue with myself over this. “Hey, I should share this. No, I don’t WANT to share it; it’s a piece of garbage. Well, perhaps it’s not. But nobody’s going to give a schmidt about it either way. Ugh, what have I done? This IS a piece of garbage. I want it off of this paper and out of my memory forever.” Ripped to sixteenths with my hands and chucked in the trash.

What is this, then? Whatever I’m saying right now, it hasn’t been discarded (yet). Congratulations, you’re sampling a slice of my head! Is it scrumptious? Is it a letdown? Would you recommend me to your friends? ABBY STOP TALKING AND LET ME THINK ABOUT IT

Well people, I feel different now. Lately I’ve been thinking about exporting my mind. I’m sure a few of you think I already do this, but I’m sad to say I haven’t even skimmed the surface that froths my standards. I have worlds of thoughts and visions that I want to make real. I’m having a hard time actually making anything, but the dreams, distant they may be, are alive. I have stories, poetry, songs, sculptures, paintings, and ideas stored within this little cave I have inside me that JUST WON’T ACTIVATE. How do you activate a cave? Well, I have an idea for that too, but it’s currently sitting on its arse with no sign of blooming! Whatever I’m writing right now, I’m struggling to even manifest, so let me simplify: CREATIVE COMA. NO DRIVE. BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED. Get the picture? NO, I’m too stiffened to draw it! My skull is sound proof! My brain is soup! In the society of art, I’m on welfare for the expressively challenged! All that I take in from life will never gain anything in return as long as this continues. Nothing would make me happier than to create, and create well. But I haven’t been able to do this, at least not by my specification of what is good. I can think things but I can’t project them into reality. I feel as though I can’t tangibly produce something of worth. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is imagining. I may have shown potential in a few mediums before, but I haven’t had the discipline or the talent to become proficient at them. I haven’t had the will.

I’M HIBERNATING.

Why? Because I’m exhausted. Because there’s too much to do. Because I don’t know where to start. Because I don’t know if I should bother, because every time I’ve tried to do something great, I’ve failed, given up halfway through, or realized it was never actually that great in the first place. I can dribble excuses like a losing argument, but if I had to give a singular root explanation, I couldn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what to tell myself. But I still want to punch you in the face, and I probably will. I’m increasingly aggressive about this. I have to do something. I’ve only got one life to manipulate.

Oh yeah, so anyway, the blog. What the crap. I consider it a training wheel. Perhaps it can aid me on my quest to coax out all these bad ideas.

Also, it’s a nice alternative to failbook and whatever. I’m going to move photos and videos here. If anyone cares about what I’m doing, they can check me out on their own will instead of having my irrelevant business invading their news feed. Good deal, huh?

And it came to pass that my blog was born, and I did stumble upon it and seek the site editor. And I looked at my front page and witnessed many retarded links of which held no relevance to me or my site. I wandered in the vast wilderness that was the admin page or something and discovered the source of my grief. I proceeded to obliterate it with my almighty web skillz. I was listening to Radiohead, who is an exceedingly awesome band and an excellent source of potassium. And I looked at my improved page and saw that it was good. Except for the part at the top right that says “Howdy! Welcome to Abby Westover!” And I did think amongst my many brains how I would never say something like that. Ever. “Off with it’s head!” I bellowed in anguish. Only I can’t figure out how to get rid of that crap, and so it remains there like an annoying Boy Scout trying to sell things that nobody really needs, like straw containers, WTF? So I made a mental note to inquire of my sagely father who can heal a web page with one flick of his scholarly hand. I then realized that mental notes become void when you forget about them. So I whipped out my handy dandy cell phone, a cell phone envied and admired throughout all the land because of it’s radiance and awesomeness. And I looked it in the retina and said unto it, “Let a reminder be engraved into my organizer to seek my father’s help.” And so it was done. And I threw chicken pot pies into the air because of my exceeding joy.

And I did skim over the previous paragraph and grew ashamed at the fact that most of my sentences began with “And”, which according to some grammar books is a deadly sin. And I foresaw that my future blog entries would cause me much entertainment as this one has done.

Well brothers and girl brothers, I must leave you at this time to listen to Megadeth and pursue employment opportunities, lest I dwindle and perish in poverty and irresponsibility, when I’d much rather dwindle and perish in large piles of money.

So I leave you with this awesome picture.