It all started nearly seven months ago. I was getting bored while bedridden due to getting COVID for the first time. But instead of continuing to scroll for hours and hours on my phone, I decided to read a book. Having nothing else to do but cough my lungs out, I read the entire 453-page book in less than a week. I'd never done that before, and it left me feeling pretty good – so good that I decided to keep going. I managed to close out the year, having read 26 books. Easily the most I had read during any year of my life, and I'm still going strong.
A few months into this new but very much accidental hobby, I started to feel like spending time scrolling on my phone was becoming less and less satisfying. I was getting bored and, sometimes, even frustrated. I was starting to crave more from what I was consuming on the internet, and I think that's because I started getting more from what I was consuming off of it. Oddly enough, this led to a growing nostalgia for the days of "Old Twitter" and personal blogs. A time when I felt I was getting more out of the internet than I am now. The internet just felt more connected back then. And while some great folks are posting some great things, most of what I see these days are superficial memes, listicles, and hot takes. Of course, I'm not innocent in all this. Over the years, I've gotten into the habit of pushing low-effort content on social too. I want more – not just from the internet, but from me.
So then, I decided to start blogging again. Not just because I want more from the internet but because I want to be more deliberate with what I put out there. I want to use writing a tool to sharpen my mind and use my blog as a means to connect with others. I'm not entirely sure I know what I'm doing, but I hope that's ok.