Both myself and those who knows me best know that my muse comes and goes in spurts of creative energy that don’t usually last for long periods of time. I have these brief periods of inspiration similar to small mind lapses us humans so lovingly call “Brain farts”, I call my sporadic muse – farts of inspiration.

Edit: Proof of my “farts”. I began this entry on Monday and here it is a Thursday. Prime example of how time gets away from me and how insane exhaustion leaves me extremely uninspired.

I was reading Mara Wilson’s personal blog and couldn’t help my fascination with her writing style, her extreme candidness, and overall love she put into the site. I wish I had the time to devote myself like that. In light of recent events in my life, I really think I should sit down and be candid with not only myself but also small scale audience who would be willing to listen to my bullshit. I have had so many people in the past few months suggest I create a journal to express myself but I just can’t seem to get away from feeling so juvenile in doing so. The desire to be heard is something I’ve always fought for. I am generally a very shy person but in times of anxiousness or extreme feeling it almost feels pointless to bury all of my words into a book and rant at a figurative wall. I feel like in writing in a semi-public forum, I can be heard just loud enough not to feel overwhelmed by my own thoughts. A lot of this blog isn’t going to make sense but I am hoping that is going to be therapy in which I need to keep it together.

Age 25 is bringing a lot of changes in my life and quite frankly I am scared to death. I am in a full time job that works (God willing, it stays that way), I am in a committed relationship of four years (That feels like it’s on the path to marriage but who the fuck knows), and my parents are retiring later this year leaving me to toy with the idea of beginning my life on my own. (I thought I’d be excited but I am fucking terrified). I am apprehensive, I am scared but I am living. It’s the only way I’ll ever make it through as Paula Cole of me as that sounds.

Hopefully this works as a form of therapy but also a place to express my first love in writing. I have walked far away from the idea of doing this for a living. The world of expression is an unfortunate career that doesn’t pay the bills. It is a sad realization to have come to, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of love I have for the art. I have never been good with explaining myself verbally. As much as I hate to admit this, my extreme social anxiety prevents me from having a normal ideal of self-expression. I have always had a bigger voice in writing my words so I hope that despite letting go of the dream, I can still speak through my favorite form of expression.

Below is a link to Mara’s website. I hope you find as much joy there as I did. If anything it is a nice homage to us 90’s kids knowing that even Matilda is still living the dream: