Do I have anything worth saying?

Will anybody care if I say it? Has somebody already said what I'm thinking? Has somebody already phrased it better/more cleverly/more succinctly/with more insight than I could? What if I offend someone? What if it's stupid? Would I be better off relegating myself to bed with my knitting needles and a few episodes of Mad Men?

I used to journal profusely. Daily, if not multiple times a day, documenting in painstaking detail the ups and downs of everything. (In middle and high school, the trend was lots of downs.) Journaling spilled over into letter-writing, with 10+ pen-pals over the years. I'm sure I over-shared, but who doesn't appreciate a ten-page (front AND back!) monstrosity stuffed into an envelope and decorated with enough Lisa Frank stickers to warrant an extra stamp and hand-cancellation?

Age and life experience solved most of my logorrhoea (look it up) issues. But it seems the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction. My journal entries are often dated 6 months apart. Blog entries are even sparser. I still write letters, but they usually fit on one solitary note card and are free of any Ballerina Bunnies or Panda Painters. The girl who used to dream of becoming a real-life bestselling author (I even wrote my own back cover flap blurb) has shelved that fantasy (pun intended). At the root lies the question in the title of this post, I think.

Aside from the Internet's usefulness in matters such as self-diagnosing your toenail fungus, finding the best parody videos of "Somebody That I Used to Know," and seeing pictures of the 5-course meal your sickeningly domestic homemaker friend just whipped up for dinner (via Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest), there is a constant barrage of everything from everyone.

Not gonna lie. It's a little overwhelming.

So when a thought runs through my head and I feel that familiar old itch to put it into words and share it, I start to second-guess myself. Who cares? It's just going to get lost in the interwebs, anyway.

This isn't always a bad thing. Honestly, I could stand to read less of people's daily play-by-plays, pointless bickering, griping, and political agendas. Filters are good. If I decide what I wanted to say is not especially insightful, informative, interesting, edifying, encouraging, or entertaining (or at all alliterate-able), typically it don't get said.

Sure, I've posted a bit of gripe on Facebook before. I've re-posted silly memes because they made me laugh. I've over-tweeted when I had one (or two) cups of coffee too many. I've checked in somewhere because I really wanted ALL THE PEOPLE to know that I'm there and BE IMPRESSED. Guilty.

But because it's so easy these days to over-share, I've become more wont to evaluate my words and their worth. I'm not judging anyone for what they post, or saying there's a right and wrong way to use your Facebook. ("I'm not saying it" being the key phrase there.) There is nothing wrong with sharing. However, I've learned a few things about what makes my journaling and posting valuable and meaningful to me. Maybe they will apply to you, too.

• Journal the positive things, because we don't remember them as easily.
• If journaling the really negative things is therapeutic, write your little heart out. But not in your journal, where re-reading these things can make you angry and bitter all over again. Or on Facebook, where they can burn bridges and make you look like a Debbie Downer. Use loose-leaf, then blast some Sleigh Bells or Linkin Park while you rip that sucker into pieces of confetti. Pray over it and let God work on any lingering hate or anger.
• Also journal/blog about the milestones, struggles, and failures, because people will celebrate with/encourage/inspire you, and you will want to look back and see how you've changed and how far you've come.
• Not everyone has to like or agree with what you say. That doesn't mean you shouldn't say it. Journals are good for this.
• The Internet is forever. Plan accordingly.
• If the stationery aisle still makes your heart beat faster, you were meant to write.