If I just write something, what if I reveal something unsavoury about myself?

What if I mess up the spelling?

What if I am under so much pressure to knock something out in six minutes that I don't write anything? A single blank page permanently appearing on my profile as a record of my inneptitude?

What if I write about something uncool, or unninteresting? First impressions count, after all. I'll be an outcast before I've even started.

Maybe I could just leave here and never come back. All this would be a brief, awkward memory. I could add it to all those moments that make me cringe, years later, at completely random times, like driving home from work.

No, I can't do that.

So I'll just write. My neuroses laid bare. This is me, this is what I'm like. This is what goes through my head before I even press a key on my keyboard.

And I'm supposed to be a writer. It's my job. Yet still I wrestle with this stuff.

Maybe it will teach me to be different. Force me to be different.

Maybe I won't second guess myself anymore.

I doubt it. We are what we are. Inventive creative writing websites won't change my personality.

So here I am.