Meghan, pump yourself full of caffeine that you will regret after about three minutes when the caffeine high starts spiraling down into a caffeine-induced anxiety attack (that was fast!) just so you can write a blog post that would probably be a million (two million!) times less frantic had you not had such a high dosage of caffeine well WHATEVER you only live once PSYCH you live until you reach enlightenment, which may be once, but most likely you will live over and over and over again until you get it right or until you REALIZE that there is no right and there is no wrong and OH NO my three minutes are up. Time for the caffeine crash.
NOW I CAN'T THINK OF WHAT TO WRITE. There's an audience! And I know that! And it prevents me from writing "freely." Okay. I really love you readers, but I'm going to pretend you don't exist right now. What would I write about if you weren't around? I'd write about how I'm surprisingly not as scared as I thought I'd be about gaining weight. I'd write about how I'm scared that I'm not that scared about gaining weight. I'd write about how frustrating dating can be -- and always will be -- and how I don't really try that hard when it comes to dating because I don't really care. I'd write about how I actually DO care about companionship and how nice it would be to find a fellow artist to love me and live with me on a ranch out in New Mexico. I'd write about food and flavor and finally allowing myself to feast on whatever the fuck I want. I'd write about alliteration! I wouldn't really write about alliteration, but I would use it perhaps a little too frequently. I'd write about grief. I'd write about repression. I'd write about the delicate balance between compassion and obsession. I'd write about how I no longer desire to write, but I desire to bring back that desire. I'd write about desire leading to suffering and suffering leading to art and art leading to a life worth living and living in the moment and the moment never existing because once you try to capture the moment it's gone. I'd write about absences and empty spaces. I'd write about your arms and the way you sit down on the grass. I'd write about how you are a moment.
And now to drink some water.