I'm too afraid of what you people think. That's one of my big problems. I mean I have a lot of large problems, but this one is really up there.
Many thoughts of mine are squelched at the moment I begin to fear a negative reaction. Many more are quashed if I read or hear something that might contradict my contention. The fear of looking dumb, uninformed, ignorant, unintelligent—it is far too much for me to bear.
The only way out that I know of is to act the fool. Shovel it out by the truckload. Write it all, good, bad and indifferent. Now this could and perhaps should be done in the dark and shame of my own room and mind. But the problem with that is, if only I ever see it, it's not getting at that other problem. It's hard enough for me to scrounge up the courage to sit in front of a blank page; it is almost equally as hard to then show that to someone else. My anti-embarrassment instinct is something to behold.
In this case it is quantity over quality that I need. Just keep writing and producing and showing until you don't care anymore. Get used to it. Get used to people looking in your windows. Flood yourself. Flood them. Make them sick of you, and then feed them more.