Okay so here's the thing. I've been blogging every day as a life practice since like 2008. I haven't always done a great job of being consistent, I haven't always managed to keep up with it. But it's been a big part of my life for almost a decade.
But the way I relate to this space, as a venue for my ideas, has changed. I don't want to put good writing here. If I'm going to put work into something rigorous I'm going to put it into schoolwork, or something I plan to publish. If I'm just looking to get my feelings off my chest, I take that to Tumblr or Twitter. My biggest hobby passion, solarpunk, has its own blog altogether.
And I know I get a nonzero number of hits on this website every day, but I do feel like when I write here, I'm writing to nobody. That used to be fine, but now there are lots of places where I can write something and I know there are people listening.
And I worry that these emotional pour-outs that wind up being the only content on this blog most of the time are going to reflect poorly on me when people come to my website looking to find out about T.X. Watson, the Professional Person with Jobs and Skills. Functionally speaking, this is the least safe place on the internet for me to talk about my anxieties, mental illness, activism, personal life, and other non-normative struggles.
Obviously, I can't keep up the volume of work I've committed myself to, with respect to updating this blog. But I feel really uncomfortable with the notion of just making this website a bulletin board for the stuff I'm doing elsewhere on the internet. I want my own website to feel like home to me. I don't want it to just be my LinkedIn page.
I feel very sad, thinking about this. I don't know what the right answers are, and I don't know how to move past this ambivalence.
If anybody is reading this, now would be a good time to let me know what you feel like you get from this website, as it exists now.