I guess all of us have those things. Stuff buried high up in or deep inside parts of closets that are too unreachable to be subjected to those midnight cleaning sprees. Clothes we naïvely cling on to because maybe, just maybe, one day we’ll be able to lose those extra kilos that we haven’t been able to for the past ten years. Or that unnecessarily large box of paperclips our student brains insisted is an integral part of some unrealistic study technique.
This blog is like those things. The amount of times I have considered shutting it all down is less than the amount of times I’ve actually changed the name of or deleted and opened a new blog on WordPress. I’ve had the same account though, on WordPress, for 10,5 years. I’ve blogged on other platforms before that. For some not-so-incomprehensible reason (probably something to do with narcissism), one way or another, once in a blue moon, I return to some kind of journal-keeping. Yet it annoys me when people ask me when my next blog post is coming out. So here you go. I cannot for the life of me understand what’s so interesting about me. I’m sure if I did, I’d have way more friends. I’d have friends period.
Friends… are moving on, faster than the bowel movements of an infant. Sorry, strange metaphor. Totally coincidental. Absolutely unrelated. But yeah, almost all of my friends are now married.
So I feel this part is important to state. Because it hasn’t been stated as openly before: when we were kids, everybody (including me. Probably, mostly me) thought I was the one to get married before all of my friends.
Yeah. If anybody had challenged me to put my money where my mouth is… well then I’d be broke by now.
See this is why I still keep this blog. I’m the master of keeping things together (maybe that box of paperclips attracted me because I identified with it), and pretending to be some kind of superwoman in the emotional sphere. Too many people come to me to blurt things out, because I’ve presented myself as a canvas on which people can Jackson Pollock their emotions. I also have satellites instead of ears: I’m not only an incredible listener, I pick up on the slightest of facial expressions. And my curse is that I can’t resist addressing those things. People can’t be sad in my presence without me picking it up and talking to them. All of this while pretending that I’m above such human emotions.
Well I’m not. I’m a wreck. And this, along with my empty apartment, are the only places where I get to be.
That’s probably why I can’t get rid of this blog. It works as some kind of lifeline.
I’m tired of being my own best friend. I need some unpredictability in my life.
Over and out.