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I have done this before.

I'm starting a blog for the fifth time in my life. I recently read an article about disappearing virtual libraries and I went looking for my 2012 - 2015 blog. Thank you Wayback Machine.

Here is a preview of what it used to look like:


Then in 2018:

There are a few missing stages.

In 2015, I started a Youtube Channel called The Ayotola Show. Pelumi, Gbohunmi and I shot 10 episodes for 3 days. After I uploaded the first 3 videos, I took it all down. I am very opinionated. I felt naked (and violated) after someone asked if I was that Ayotola. Talking on the internet about what I thought and felt was quite something...

In November 2017, I put up a one-liner: going through an existential crisis.

I found a paragraph from an email I wrote 23rd May, 2016:

"Most times, writing is a desperate act of sanity; a need for order, a compulsion to arrange the cluttered mess of my mind. Sometimes, it is my attempt to escape a recent emotional upheaval. Other times, I need to still time, immortalize a memory or person, paint an event, remember a plot idea, bring my wishes to life, to create something. So one way or the other, I need to write. It doesn't matter what else is going on. Scribble here, scribble there and bring it together later."

I scrub myself of myself very often. So when I'm sane, when there is some order; I feel a compulsive need to start again. There is also the part of not giving myself room for growth. Why else would I want to burn 4 years and over 1,200 pages worth of personal journaling?

At the end of the day, we all have an innate need to be heard, to be validated. I will try (because I cannot promise) to write. To stop being afraid of being so open on the internet. To deal with my push-pull-love-hate relationship with being vulnerable in my writing. To stop hating my past selves.

I will ramble on here. Personal anecdotes about food. Books. Mental health. Hair. Money. Community. Love or the lack thereof. My toxic relationship with the internet. Most importantly I will be documenting (my) life here.

Here is the inventing and reinventing of self. And to being heard.

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