Into the nowhere, out of the now
When I re-posted that thing the other day about how the people on my friendslist suck warthog balls, I meant it as a joke. This blog is probably over, and I thought that was kind of a funny note to go out on, bitching one last time about the lack of comments. But I actually did get a couple of comments, and it seemed like people took it more seriously than I intended. So, this time for real.
I spent a decade doing this thing, trying so hard to be interesting and funny and worth knowing, trying to make some sort of lasting connection with people. But this blog was never popular, and now almost everybody I did get to know has either vanished from the web without explanation or they've pointedly "unfriended" me. My disappointment and anger are real, but my true feelings are so much more complicated than that.
When I started this blog, I thought I was clawing my way up from a very dark place. That dark place now seems like the good old days. I thought I was starting my life over then, but I had no idea. I've spent the last couple of years really starting my life over, over and over again, and sometimes I hardly know who I am anymore. I look at the old pictures of myself as Ursula, and I get that same feeling I have when I look at pictures of so many of my old friends, all those people who have just vanished away without leaving a phone number or an address, all those people who don't show up in a Google search, who have been swallowed up by the past.
When there's nobody around to remember your past with you, it all starts to seem like a fiction, like a movie you saw or a book you read a long time ago. Those old pictures are like fragments of a dream. How young we were! How foolish and pretty and sad. I see the old pictures of Ursula, and I wonder, who was that girl, and where did she go?
I don't hate any of you. We shared something, whatever it was, and it mattered to me. Now it's time for me to start all over again, to sift through the wreckage for whatever I can salvage and cross my fingers and hope that this time, I'll make it work.
Maybe some fine day, you and me and Ursula will meet again. And if not... I will remember us.
I spent a decade doing this thing, trying so hard to be interesting and funny and worth knowing, trying to make some sort of lasting connection with people. But this blog was never popular, and now almost everybody I did get to know has either vanished from the web without explanation or they've pointedly "unfriended" me. My disappointment and anger are real, but my true feelings are so much more complicated than that.
When I started this blog, I thought I was clawing my way up from a very dark place. That dark place now seems like the good old days. I thought I was starting my life over then, but I had no idea. I've spent the last couple of years really starting my life over, over and over again, and sometimes I hardly know who I am anymore. I look at the old pictures of myself as Ursula, and I get that same feeling I have when I look at pictures of so many of my old friends, all those people who have just vanished away without leaving a phone number or an address, all those people who don't show up in a Google search, who have been swallowed up by the past.
When there's nobody around to remember your past with you, it all starts to seem like a fiction, like a movie you saw or a book you read a long time ago. Those old pictures are like fragments of a dream. How young we were! How foolish and pretty and sad. I see the old pictures of Ursula, and I wonder, who was that girl, and where did she go?
I don't hate any of you. We shared something, whatever it was, and it mattered to me. Now it's time for me to start all over again, to sift through the wreckage for whatever I can salvage and cross my fingers and hope that this time, I'll make it work.
Maybe some fine day, you and me and Ursula will meet again. And if not... I will remember us.