Writing has always been a difficult beast for me. Every time I sit down to write something, I just fail to bring anything substantial to mind. I don’t live a fanciful life of tantalizing adventure but, rather, a fanciful life of mediocre preservation.

Every time I come back to trying to write on my blog, my eyes are drawn to my first post: “I’m still alive”. Ironic, because that is not actually my first post. My first two posts were deleted by me when I wrote “I’m still alive.” Perhaps I thought that I could just retcon those posts out of my life.

You see, I constantly suffer from a serious case of Imposter Syndrome. Everything I do feels like walking through a deep pool of molasses. There is this extra resistance that seems to be tacked on to every task. Why should I try to write about my programming discoveries when dozens, or even hundreds of other people have already outdone my solutions. How do I know if something is good enough?

This brings me back to “I’m still alive.” It is a small post that I wrote as an attempt to convince myself to try writing again, but it clearly did not work (as evinced by the 2+ year gap in posts). Even though I feel that this post is superfluos, small, and insignigant, I do think that I will keep it here. I am done retconning my past. Or, maybe, it’s just nostalgia.