I’ve been writing poetry since I was about 15. But I never shared it with anyone.
I didn’t have the greatest childhood growing up so my notebook became my only friend.
I wrote my thoughts with a pilot g2 pen.

Some people resort to violence, drinking, illicit sex or drugs…..I choose to write. It was therapeutic for me back then and still is today.

I’m an introvert by nature, and I don’t generally do social media. But I decided to try this app back in 2019. I started out as @nonymouswriter (my pen name) and began exploring a world of like minded people. I will admit, I was extremely nervous. The thought of sharing my diary with the world of complete strangers made me extremely uncomfortable. But I did it anyway, hoping many could relate and appreciate the art.

When I arrived, there was a little drama here and a battle of the arts. It was interesting to say the least. The vibe just made me question why I came here in the first place. But I laid low. Stayed out trouble and managed to escape the negative vibe.

At that time, you couldn’t really block anyone. And leaving comments was risky. And the Chat feature didn’t exist. But I learned a lot about people. I was a virgin to social media, so this whole concept was new to me.

To be perfectly honest, it intrigued me how people would choose to debate over someone’s heartfelt expressions on their own platform. It was like stealing someone’s notebook and judging them for what they wrote. It was unwanted criticism. A form of virtual bullying.

Although I’ve never been bullied by anyone in the physical or the virtual world, my heart went out to those who were.

Perhaps some of you here remember those days and decided to stay. I followed no one, but appreciated those I admired. I met a few intriguing people along the way. Some I had to block, others misunderstood my intentions and others I truly miss.

The longer I stayed, the more I realized, people are just people and life is what you make it. At times, I felt posting here was no different then writing in my notebook. The added benefit of a comment from someone who either could relate, felt the same or just appreciated the art of writing.

Words are not always read the way they’re written. So it was nice when someone could understand not only the words but appreciate the art of the rhythmic composition.

I finally decided to leave/delete my poems and just lay low. Still enjoying reading some of my favorite poets but I decided not to comment or like. Mostly Because my anxiety of human interaction made me nervous. And I always have this fear of being misunderstood or inadvertently making others feel uncomfortable by taking a personal interest.

So I just I stayed quiet for a while as the app started to improve. Then one day I decided to start posting again, I changed my pen name to “JustAnotherInkling” thus implying that I’m Just another little Inkling Writing about how he feels. To the making of many poems there is no end. So what’s another drop in the alphabet of life?

I started to realize that no one in my tangible world knows I even write. I’m friends with everyone but close to no one.
I suppose I have the same fear as everyone else. Afraid of being judged and why would they even care.

I again reached a point in my life where I felt it’s all just pointless. I actually wrote a poem about that. I’m too afraid to actually pursue a friendship with a stranger. As I’m sure they feel the same. So what’s the point in interacting with others when it all just ends the same?

So once again….I deleted all my poems. And even my account. I didn’t see the point in posting my thoughts and feelings on a virtual notebook that nobody cared to read.
And I wasn’t really sure how being here even helped me. Writing in of itself is therapeutic. But I couldn’t find the connection of writing and posting. It doesn’t do anything for me. At least I thought.

And then I thought to myself. Isn’t that what I’ve done for years? I’ve been writing for years and never shared my thoughts with anyone. So what difference does it make?
I write for myself as a form of therapy, so who cares what other people think or whether they decide to read.

As I unplugged completely from social media I began to see how pointless it truly is. How lonely and socially suicidal I’ve become because of fear of getting too close to someone. How frustrated I became with not being able to interact with others in a way that’s socially acceptable.

Which is intriguing to me. Because I’m literally surrounded by people everyday of my life but I have a hard time finding one’s who appreciate the art of friendship, appreciate the art of life, everyone seems so surface. There were very few friends I met in life who felt the same. But they’re gone now.

As I was alone within myself, I started to miss the friends I use to have and desiring to have them back. I realized how disconnected I’ve become from the world.
I found myself becoming overly curious about life, love and friendship. Peoples pattern of thinking, their innermost desires.
And I realized at that moment…..it doesn’t matter. Being here is safer then being alone and safer then satisfying a healthy curiosity.

I’d rather write and interact with other artists in a virtual world than live a life trying to rekindle what I lost. So here I am. Resurrected on this app.

At the end of day, I suppose it doesn’t matter. The world is a messed up place. Everyone needs an outlet, and everyone needs a friend. This truly is my therapy and it doesn’t matter what others think.

I feel better when I write. And it makes me happy when someone actually buys out the time to read and leaves a comment.

© JustAnotherInkling🎨