Comments like yours are a major reason I do not have the heart to write. But that doesn't even mean you're wrong.

For example, an idea for a blog post came to my mind 30 minutes ago:

You can't wander into a supermarket and see a substance as addictively tempting as heroin stocked next to the Advil. Imagine you're just trying to get groceries on some mundane Sunday afternoon and go home within a half hour when you turn your head and see a magazine with a picture of your favorite <YouTube content creator/acid techno producer/dog> on the racks. If this were me, and the thing I saw was one I highly cherished, under my default mode of action, the rest of my entire afternoon would be set in stone. The time would have been lost. I have remembered about the most interesting thing in the location of the most mundane things, and I feel validated. So I will get distracted.

And my argument would be that the <YouTube content creator/acid techno producer/dog> that occupies a my time is not at fault. The fault would lie with us as a species, because although natural selection filters out the most successful genes and ideas, it does not put limiters on the ones that are successful to a fault. Laws, regulations, and legislation are, at a simplistic level, ways of preventing people from getting what they want. What if what I "truly" want is the thing that will destroy me?

The above is what I would consider an idea that is not fully thought though. I came up with it in all of fifteen minutes. Through some shred of luck, I've managed to do what the article encourages and wrote it down somewhere.

I could spend a lot of time writing a blog post explaining this idea. I could cite sources. I could throw it online just for the sake of finishing something, not because I believe the product of my effort is perfect. Then I could be told that I shouldn't have finished what I did, because my writing was a net negative. Even though I know that I have never really written any blog posts, and that releasing shitty blog posts is inevitable if you are ever going to blog consistently.

It's sad that I have to picture comments like these in front of me, because they will always exist, but even if they are harsh, that doesn't mean they're wrong. It's sad because that is what ultimately destroys my motivation to share most of what I've made with anyone, unless it offers no real grounds for opinion (in the sense of the universality of mathematical formulae).

At the same time, the difference between carrying on or not shouldn't be determined by how harshly the critic happens phrase their criticism. People have told me that I need to stop being so vulnerable and develop thick skin. You can tell all the dismissive people to "be nicer", but there will always be more dismissive people.

That is the reason that the idea I'm proposing, however disjointed and rough it is, will probably not become a blog post. It's the idea that people should not write to be seen unless they have enough focus to pass a certain bar. That if you have nothing insightful to say, you should keep quiet instead, and of course I am not going to be able to define "insightful" in a closed vacuum all by myself.

And of course, the only real reason I feel comfortable writing all of this here is because it concerns an article about not caring what people are going to think of what you say. If it were under any other article, all that insight becomes implicit, and you are on your own in dealing with the guilt and fear.

I am tempted to give myself the habit of telling everyone who judges what I say that I was just trying to finish something for once, instead of wallowing around wishing I finished something for all of my life. "This piece is awful because I finished it." I can see dozens of places I could have improved if I had the heart - but no, I had to ship instead.

Maybe that still won't be a good enough excuse. If so, then I guess the fear the original author dismisses is justifiable, at least.