Comeback: A Time

I decided to go through this blog today, looking at old posts of when I just created it, recalling the feelings and the events that led to those posts, etc. It was funny, like going through a time tunnel and watching yourself grow.

Then I realized (quite belatedly, I admit) that recently, this blog has become a mere dump store for fanfictions. I don't even write orifics anymore. (There was a time I abandoned fanfiction in favor of orificand choosing not to publish them--after all, I have my dreams too, that one day I can compile those into a short story collection of my own.) I don't write poems to pour my feelings. No more Life tagged posts either.

One thing I can easily say, is that I blame someone for the lack of personal posts here. (Blaming others always comes easy, does it not?) At that time, however little I wrote for this blog, I still have a desire to make this blog my home, where I can rattle on and on about something, maybe making it vague as a caution.

This notion was blown up the moment someone came up to me after apparently reading one of my controversial posts, asking nicely, "Hey, you all right?"

Okay, I know, that's nice of him, you might be wondering why I got so upset over this--but you see, he's the least I want to read that post. Besides I didn't really write it to be asked if I'm all right. I just needed to vent, that's it. No need to ask me. So I found out the hard way that indeed, the internet's a wild place where whatever you put there become public. Ever since that time, I chose to stop writing about my life at all.

Another reason is, well, I'm just so introverted that I don't think my daily life is worthy enough to be put up here. Of course that's silly, I know, because this is my home and however I fill it is up to me, but I just can't help the thought. (Welcome, anxiety and inferiority complex.)

Lastly, I began to notice that life is not as interesting as it had been, when I kept a daily journal (not really a diary, just a tool to keep me writing everyday) and filled it with everyday occurences. Everyday is fun, everyone is so nice and we talk about a lot of things, sure, but nothing out of habit. Goes back to the point where I feel that nothing is worthy enough to be written.

I don't know why but maybe I've gotten dull? That I've lost my sense of observation? All in all, I just think that I'm vastly different from the me in high school. Some aspects are definitely better, but some others I find myself lament. Once upon a time I could write something out of nothing at all, in a spur of a moment, even during class. Once upon a time I could have that surge of emotion, pouring just like that from the tip of a pen or pencil. I miss those days.

In the end, perhaps I'm just dulled from a lack of writing exersices. Hurrr.