I am lying on the sofa, my once steaming cup of coffee long forgotten and evaporating into nothingness. I stare at the screen and try my hardest not to cry. I am devastated.

How the fuck does one write a blog?
What topics to choose, things to say, pictures to post?

This is the first time I am doing this, and I am feeling vulnerable and scared. Fears of rejection and embarrassment cross my mind. I am losing my virginity all over again.
Should I really do this?

I have never been good at socializing. I deleted Facebook years ago and never had a Twitter account. Or Snapchat, for that matter. But Steem seems to be so much better than that, and I really want to make this work. And, 'introducing myself', I thought, can't be that hard after all, right?
Explain casually who you are, throw in a funny story about your life, an intelligent statement about society & politics, and you are done.

HAH! 5 hours later and I want to throw my laptop out of the window. Ever tried being a charmingly sophisticated motherfucker with an amazing sense of humour in under five hundred words? I studied graphic design, not creative writing. But here I am, trying to please you all and being painfully aware of how difficult it is.

After all, that's what it's all coming down to, isn't it? No matter what we do, the flashing lights and sparkling arrows point to 'being liked'. Becoming a part of the community. Getting followers and upvotes, in this case. To be honest, these flashing lights make me incredibly uncomfortable, like online dating. You've got to put yourself out there and give everything you have if you don't want to end up alone. But being liked isn't easy. In fact, it might be one of the most complicated things of our time, and something I am not even sure we should strive to achieve. Anything we make or do will always find people who hate it. There will always be somebody who doesn't like us for who we are. We try to change us to fit in, creating and recreating ourselves over and over again. Trying to be unique and individual and oh so creative. Losing ourselves in the process.
I refuse to let that happen. I don't know who I am, and I don't want to know. I am fragmented. Nobody needs a definition.

So, how am I going to make you like my stuff? I probably won't. I still care and it still hurts, but I am a tough cookie.

In spirit of this I have decided to post parts of my bachelor project from years ago. I could write endless things about myself, but I think this project may very well be the one thing that describes me best.

Like I said, I studied design, focus on packaging & branding. It was a tiny private uni in wonderful Berlin. I later moved to England to do my MA and somehow never left the country again.
Anyhow, that project I really really really liked. I mean really. It is a fictional restaurant I wish actually existed. I created it myself from scratch to concept to interior design, packaging & branding, food design & photography, marketing and art direction (I had a friend help me with people photography and a make up artist). I put so much hard work and effort in, unfortunately I had too much planned, so I didn't quite manage to finish it all and my presentation was a bit crappy, but that's it. It is still amazing, in my opinion.
My teachers, however, didn't exactly agree. They said I could have done better, that I ran out of 'steem' (hah!), and gave me a medium nice grade. Hearing their comments was… unpleasant.

But it still makes me happy and I hope that it might amuse you, too. So here it goes.
I proudly present my dream Restaurant 'Wanna Shit Glitter'

If you have enjoyed this trip into my past: I recently set up a jewellery business called 'We Are Fragmented'. I am just in the making, so nothing is live, yet, but it's gonna be fabulous. It's all about identity crisis in our modern times and the resulting urge to define ourselves through consumerism and all that fancy shit. I will post about that in the future, show you what I make, and maybe even how. Who knows.

And thank you @blacksails for convincing me to sign up to Steem. I hope you won't regret it.

Love,
Ina