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when it feels pretentious to even call it imposter syndrome bc you are actually an imposter

I think so often that I don’t know what I’m doing anymore I’m so many different ways. I want to write more, I think. But maybe I would be better served writing in my journal. Try keeping it to myself. I don’t read what other people write consistently. Not for lack of desire but for overwhelming choices. Too much to listen to, watch, read, television, podcasts, articles, there’s literally not enough time. I feel like Instagram is the one place I keep up with my besties the best, but even then I know there are things I miss because I've found them. I like this blog because it's the format I know and Myke bought my url for me. I don't know how to find other people's things to read. I don't even know where to put myself out there even if I'm willing to figure out the how. What is easy some days, I have lots to say. The always nagging why . Everything has been said before so why say it again because sometimes my voice is the first time you've heard it or gave it

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