I had one of these accounts, quite a long time ago.
It was an age of innocence, where I plugged the everliving crap out of it on my roleplaying account on Facebook (yes, I was at that age) and wrote about whatever struck my fancy. Spiders crawling out of the walls, tea parties that I had with strangers all years older than me, including one called Justice. (I still hold to the fact that that was a good name to have, despite me constantly wanting to shout “objection” in his pale, pierced face. Justice, indeed.) I even had the beginnings of an advice column before I conked out after a few months of relatively hard work. I was thirteen, I was unprepared and sleep-deprived and just a little bit depressed.
Actually, on second thought, I had two blogs. The other one was a co-operative effort between a friend and I that got banned for nebulous reasons she and I are not even sure of to this day. It might have been because we were creating a blog at school, but who knows? We never got the chance to post anything. I’m sure whatever would have gone up would have been perfect blackmailing fuel for later in life.
There were other attempts at starting that never went anywhere on sites that were downright broken back in the hallowed halls of 2011 internet. There was a school writing blog that I never posted on, a podcast that never got off the ground, a FanFiction account that was left to rust and, all in all, a damned huge amount of words that never had the chance to be written. Run-on sentences included.
I’ve been flirting with the idea of journalism for some time without even realizing it. Opinionated arguments, debating and sassing, giving a damn about what goes on in the world. Sometimes not a well-educated or researched damn, but a damn to consider nonetheless. Maybe, with this, it’ll change.