Tuesday, November 6, 2018

An Honest Post

This is hard now.
I feel like I'm out of words. Like, every opinion I have is either already written. All my creativity goes into podcasts now. Podcasts, I know for a fact, not everyone listens to. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but I feel like I've put enough lines out there. Links, Facebook profiles, Twitter. Hell, my podcast just got added to Spotify, Anchor, Google Podcasts, and a bunch of other sources I've never even heard of. I don't like bitching and moaning about low downloads, but I see how many people check out this blog a day and I think "Jesus imagine if every view this one post got was a listener". Just this month, fifty-five people checked out a post on this website. Fifty-Five. You know how many listens my podcasts get? Four to twelve. Maybe you readers just don't have the means to listen to podcasts, maybe podcasts are scary and new, maybe podcasts are boring because there's nothing to look at. And when I try to do a video podcast, again, those fifty-five people go missing.
Who am I kidding? You don't come here to read about some guy who's struggling to be creative or to bombarded with advertisements for a podcast. Hell, "listen to my podcast" is probably the second most unappealing thing to say to someone next to "check out my blog". Podcasting is just so easy. I A. don't have to do it alone, B. can discuss whatever I want to, and C. use it to entertain people. But writing for a blog. I don't know. It's not exhausting. I'm not under pressure. You fifty-five readers aren't pressuring me to write better or write more. You don't tell me anything, even if I would like you to. Hell, I'll take hate comments, I'll take death threats. I just want to know who I'm writing for. When I started doing this, five years ago, I did it because I wanted to be a writer. I still do. And doing this everyday was practice. It was training. But somewhere down the line I just stopped ignoring my doubts. I'm not disappointed or anything, I just feel like I haven't gone anywhere. Like in the five years I've been blogging I've made no steps forward. The podcast, live shows, those were movements. I got Kurt Busiek to comment on my post, but he only did it because I messed up on something I was writing. My biggest achievement was acquired because of a mistake.
I started this blog to practice being a writer, but I also did it to distract myself. Five years ago, I had graduated high school, ditched collage after three months, and was still hanging on to my ex from school. I had a job at a grocery store and I needed something to keep my attention, something to keep myself from going miserable. Because like all 20-somethings I was depressed for no good reason. So I replaced my sadness with this. This blog. This further interest in the world of comic books. I leapt into a fiction to escape my reality.
Fast forward five years and I'm back with my ex and in a healthy relationship. We live in an apartment. I have a new job that's flexible, well-paying, and doesn't require me to interact with customers. I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. I have everything I want and room for more. I may not be the most famous or most rich guy in the world, but I'm better off than other guys out there my age. And maybe that's why this is hard. Because my drive was to convince people comic books, superheroes, and fictional stories could inspire people, build people's beliefs, and just be damn meaningful. I think that, my friends think that, and my girlfriend is starting to see that. Comics mean a lot to me, but I can't pretend I need to distract myself with them anymore. I'm not going to stop reading or watching cartoons and TV shows and movies, but I shouldn't beat myself up over writing about comics on my blog. I think I've earned a pat on the back. I've been doing this for five years and even if it hasn't changed much, I've changed a lot. I don't need to distract myself from the things I don't have, because I have all I want now.
I owe my friendships to the comic book stories I've been able to share, I owe the cushion that carried back to the woman I love to comic books for keeping my mind busy, and I owe my creativity, my drive, my interest, and my pride to this blog. And I owe a thank you to anyone who read a post in passing. To anyone who clicked on a list just to look at the pictures. I owe a lot to a lot of people for a lot of things. And I owe piece of mind to myself. I never wanted The Panel Biter to become my career. I never wanted The Panel Biter to take a place above my relationships. And I never wanted The Panel Biter to take a place above my happiness. I was happy to be a blogger, even if it meant a dead end. Even if it means this will one day end. Even it means one day the podcasts, the videos, and everything else related to this little blog ends.
But in the words of a naked blue man, "Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends".
Thanks for reading.

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