Winning Habit, Losing A Bit
My nerves are usually made of steel, or at least I’m good at keeping up that front. Because the sad truth is deep inside I’m a blithering sap when confronted by utter cheesiness. God, who wants to admit these things to other people, huh? Yes I’m sensitive, emotional, vulnerable. There you go. Not a lot of people know that, and it’s not like people want to know. It’s just that these past days I’ve been thinking, what does this blog of mine aim to achieve?
I’ve been doing this thing for more than a couple of months now, and although doing this has been quite a success in terms of its cathartic effect on me, I realized that I can’t just forever use this space as a conduit to letting the world know the things that do not make me exactly jump out of joy (my first few posts were like that; I more of write poetry now). The thing is no matter what the amount of my posts I put up here in my blog it will never be enough to represent the real me because to begin with there are just too much about me that’s going on–and God they’re not easy to talk about. No I do not I have a kickass life for me to actually document it through blogging. In fact if you have been wasting your time reading my blog you’ll notice that I do not blog the proper way, meaning the posts I put up here are very random and whimsical and do not follow a pattern. I put my poems, writings in here together with audio music, videos, pictures and images in a very haphazard manner, and although it can be said that they speak volume of who I am, I still feel that everything in here are not wholly me.
For example it looks as though I love rock music, but the truth is I like singing and even emoting to cheesy songs when I’m all by myself. It’s like although I intended this blog to be completely devoid of my personal dealings with life, or at least just be ambiguous about it, I realized lately that I have to give in a little bit more. No I do not lust after attention to feel the need to sensationalize and dramatize myself, in fact I sometimes feel like complete sellout for having this blog. How many times I’ve told myself that I will never ever have anything to do with the things that are responsible to the death of simplicity? Doing journals, as in doing the diary thing–been there, done that. It took me a long time to actually decide putting up this blog, and honestly I still feel unease up to this day for having this despite of the positive things it has brought me. And that is why I do not have social networking accounts, because I do not even have enough time for the things I really want to do, how could I possibly allot time to do social networking on-line? To start with anyway, where’s the social networking in doing those things? I still believe that if I feel I have to interact or network with someone, I would have to do that face-to-face, in person. God am I so difficult.
I told myself that maintaining a blog and stealing images for it to make it a little bit less dull is the first and last thing I would have to do withthe Internet. E-mail, sure. But that’s it. I don’t like my friends virtual and affairs shallow. Although I’m open with building friendships in the blogging community, I don’t have problems with that.
But this is no big deal, having this blog, I’d want to believe. Because when it comes down to it, deep within me I know that what brought to life this blog to begin with is my desire to spoof the kind of lifestyle technology has given the people. No I have nothing against bloggers, I actually do believe that half of them are amazingly talented and genuine people. What I mean is that because the blogosphere is very much representative of the Internet, meaning the Now, the globalization fever, and as everyone would be horrified and disgusted to know I am not exactly the biggest fan of modern stuff ooga-booga. And so since I can’t do anything about it and the world has to basically move on very well without me, I just have to be bitter about it in a satirical way: I will embody them. I will become them.
It’s a lot of fun.
Dear lord. Giving in a little bit more. Since when did I consider wanting to write about myself in the form of blogging. There are far more important things to do in this world than talking about myself. The thing with blogging is that it’s so caught up with itself because it has audience. Take out the audience part and there goes your oblivion. Rarely today do you see a group of people who have the actual gift of creating something out of nothing anymore, or at least being interesting without first weaving hype and lies. The same reason why people are suddenly all gung-ho with world peace and other social awareness bullcrap: because that train of thought is just so popular and viral these days that you dare not join them and you’ll be so uncool. The world is watching these people, that’s why; otherwise, do you really think they’ll go out of their way screaming FREEDOM, EQUALITY, PEACE, JUSTICE? Erm, no. BECAUSE ALL THEY REALLY WANT IS TO BE FREAKING CELEBRITIES! In this age if you “champion a cause” you’re a rockstar. What integrity? What dignity? This society is a whore! Nobody talks about their real, heartfelt emotions anymore. On the outside they appear to be doing exactly that nowadays–but only directly proportional to the biases of the world. You sing about your thoughts on why you have a pokerface–but you need to wear flamboyant costumes and wigs to have people hear you.
Why am I even taking these people seriously.
Emotions. Sensitivity. Vulnerability. I’ve been advised countless times before to only write or express what I know, so naturally I would talk about myself–but I figured the only way I would write about my awesome self is only through talking about other things. And by that I mean talking about music, film, arts and literature–basically the things that affect me and not necessarily my personal trash.
There’s this Youtube video I’m going to post soon here, and in it are 6 minutes worth of amazing jellyfishes set to relaxing music. I’ve always liked watching jellyfishes and losing myself in them, so I told myself that when I finally succumbed to making a blog jellyfishes would have to be part of it. So I really scoured visuals of them to be part of it. And when indeed I saw myriads of them and found this particular video, I suddenly felt drained and pooped, because for weird reasons the beautiful jellyfishes felt like calling to my being and sensibilities, and that it felt like them simply swimming just as they are underwater have pretty much expressed some of the poetic beauty that I’ve been wanting to capture in art and words, and that it would only be a bastardization of the very purpose why I want to express my genuine myself and honest intentions for the world if I attempt to recreate them in my own version.
I don’t make sense, do I. But really I guess I just have to believe that being outright with my emotions and being less shady about them will make the world budge for the better, that it will see through the bitterness and sarcasm that I only have the best wishes for it and its people. Really.
*I wrote this last late Friday night (or was it early Saturday morning) when practically everyone I know was out partying and I think I was half-asleep. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this after reading it the next day because I thought it’s too negative (wow me negative a surprise?). If I sounded offensive somewhere there it’s only because I had a group of people in mind; I wasn’t talking in general.