It's a bird. It's a plane. No it's just a post from me.
Lee stumbled upon one of my blogger pages. He was commenting that my state of mind inferred by second last entry, http://sandie-in-uni.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-feel-really-alone.html, was a complete change from how I am now. And it's true, I have never felt this sane, content, and able to actually work on issues that cause stress and/or personal disappointment. Thus, I haven’t had a freak-out to warrant me to write since I’ve kept seeing “the boy” mentioned in this and the aforementioned post, lol.
Anyways, it made me realized I hadn’t blog in quite some time. This is often the case when the going is good. Blogging has always been something I can do to keep sane, to vent, but I think I’m ready to grow out of that use.
Lee was discussing a while ago how he hates it when people leave encrypted facebook messages. He hates the vie for attention. I also agree, it can be annoying and unless it’s someone I’m rather close with I don’t mention inquiring. But I can kind of relate.
I started having blogs during teen years for a couple of reasons. I was going through well crazy changes in physical and mental states and it was good to write stuff out, and growing up in a controlling household where I never could spend much time with friends outside of school hours, meant internet was really the only means of communicating with peers. I also got tired of being emo and looking depressed, (and this was when it was just lame, not commercialized lame), and so this was a way to be emo and lame but not in a physical way. But I also had insecurity issues with who were friends I can depend on and those I couldn’t. If they knew my situation at that time and visited my blog and commented, it was kind of a sign they were at least friends enough to take that effort. Obviously I don’t assess friendships on that criterion anymore, but there’s still a give and take I expect.
Right now, I don’t know what to blog, if I have time to blog, or if I still care to do it. It has been a useful catalog of my development. Reading old posts, I often feel disconnected from and perplexed about the state I was in while I wrote it. But I like reading them sometimes anyways. The realization that somewhere beneath the angsty, retarded, insecure girl in those blog entries and poetry is a slightly less angsty, less retarded, more confident person is enough for hope in continued personal improvement.
Anyways, it made me realized I hadn’t blog in quite some time. This is often the case when the going is good. Blogging has always been something I can do to keep sane, to vent, but I think I’m ready to grow out of that use.
Lee was discussing a while ago how he hates it when people leave encrypted facebook messages. He hates the vie for attention. I also agree, it can be annoying and unless it’s someone I’m rather close with I don’t mention inquiring. But I can kind of relate.
I started having blogs during teen years for a couple of reasons. I was going through well crazy changes in physical and mental states and it was good to write stuff out, and growing up in a controlling household where I never could spend much time with friends outside of school hours, meant internet was really the only means of communicating with peers. I also got tired of being emo and looking depressed, (and this was when it was just lame, not commercialized lame), and so this was a way to be emo and lame but not in a physical way. But I also had insecurity issues with who were friends I can depend on and those I couldn’t. If they knew my situation at that time and visited my blog and commented, it was kind of a sign they were at least friends enough to take that effort. Obviously I don’t assess friendships on that criterion anymore, but there’s still a give and take I expect.
Right now, I don’t know what to blog, if I have time to blog, or if I still care to do it. It has been a useful catalog of my development. Reading old posts, I often feel disconnected from and perplexed about the state I was in while I wrote it. But I like reading them sometimes anyways. The realization that somewhere beneath the angsty, retarded, insecure girl in those blog entries and poetry is a slightly less angsty, less retarded, more confident person is enough for hope in continued personal improvement.