WordPress – The Final Frontier

Occasionally I receive emails from fellow bloggers. I find it heartwarming. When I nearly lost Megan, a number of you reached out to me. The support I was given by my peers within this WordPress platform was touching and I needed it.

I have no choice but to write. If I don’t, I am not well. My first post on WordPress was this, “Test.” I clicked publish. I literally had zero clue what WordPress was, or what would happen. I was shocked when a few people ‘liked’ that first post. I didn’t realize it was actually ‘live’ and viewable, not just on WordPress, but for the entire internet world.

After the first year of writing on here, I happily admit that I had this thought, “To what end?” I asked myself what was the point of doing this. I thought about this for a few weeks and the answer became very clear. I write for myself. I need to write. And I’m massively thankful for WordPress. I use the ‘free’ version and it has produced astonishing results. I’ve connected with friends from around the world who helped support me through family hardship, publishers have researched my blog and invited me to submit to them, and I learned that apparently I write poetry.

If you are new to blogging and are asking similar questions about the purpose, I hope this helps. It’s not just worth your time, it’s part of your life. Just keep going. Even if you post something and receive zero feedback, likes, follows, etc. That’s happened to all of us. And at the end of the day, that’s OK too. Especially when you’re writing for yourself.

Cheers everyone, and seriously, thank you for being with me.

Matt

Contact:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/contact/

 

Odd Walking Thoughts – Mind Games

I play tricks with leaves outside my window. I trick them into being what I want them to be and when they’ve finally made me realize they’ll only be what they are I see them turn over for the wind- While I climb into myself looking for the same things I’ve always looked for. At times I find what I’m looking for and promise to remember, but I forget and need to start all over again with new leaves, on new days with sun pouring, or rain landing outside on the dirt below- I can stand here by myself, or I can fly outside with all of them, as long as I at least look out the window and trick myself into something I can be.

-M. Taggart

 

Published Work:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

Poem-

Sometimes memories are like metal fans.
With each blade sharpened-
They aren’t beckoning you
They are pushing you away-
When you reach for them
You are cut, again-
Leaving you reeling
Running from closet to bedsheets
to where you no longer
own your memories

-M. Taggart

 

 

Don’t Go

The thinker is often punished for thinking.

Anxiety had me up early this morning. Megan took the day off. I went downstairs, made coffee, ignored my chest, thought about my chest, picked up the living room where Gavin stores all of his toys, vacuumed, started the dish washer, did 131 jumping jacks, stretched, and indoor walked for 30 fucking minutes.

Anxiety has no schedule. I try and manage it by putting it back into its place by staying busy and thinking. I try not to think because that’s the problem. So half my plan is solid nearly all the time. All joking aside, I haven’t dealt with this serious of an anxiety attack in a long, long while. Megan took the day off for a follow up appointment with the doctor. When I found Megan bleeding to death on the bathroom floor I was flat lined emotionally. I have been for weeks. Unfortunately emotion has a way of unfolding itself if you’ve kept it hidden.

So I’m vacuuming this morning and I’m indoor walking and I’m drinking my coffee and I’m thinking when I realized what’s really the root of this particular anxiety attack. I’m going to miss Megan. She leaves on Sunday morning. Super Bowl Sunday Morning. We are both football fans. Football Sunday is a big family day for us. She’s leaving in the morning and will be gone until the following Sunday. Megan works her ass off and has created an amazing career and at times, needs to be gone. Gavin sometimes walks to the door and tries to open the door asking for Mommy. Try that one on for size knowing he nearly lost her for ever.

 

Matt