here I go again
Would you look at that, a new post in this blog! Guess I'm back somewhat, maybe not, who knows? All I know is that I'm kinda tired of this whole thing, this caring-about-stuff thing. I don't care for stuff anymore, despite caring about stuff, and this blog is stuff, and I'm it's curator, therefore, it's going into the trash pile.
You see, when I created "a naughty tree root", it was supposed to be a small little project where I talked about Sua Yoo's poetry — which isn't that much — and carried on with my life and the other blogs I already took care of. But then I pushed the "talking about my favorite poetry" side of things with a personal diary thing, and then came the translations along with over 2k views and I felt pressured to do something not exactly what I wanted to. So, as I do with everything I don't want to deal with, this blog was abandoned.
I still don't want to deal with shit, but there's something I didn't mention: I don't really have a journal, and all the times I used this blog as a journal it felt really good, felt like it was something seriously missing in my life, and made me happy despite the regret later on. The problem I came to find was with the intimacy part of a journal. They're intimate, something you do only for yourself, to ponder with yourself and to yourself about your things. When you are conscious of other people fiddling around with what's truly yours, things simply become not as real. You aren't a student of the self anymore, but a caricaturist, an entertainer and a stage, and legitimacy suffers with that.
Views never helped me, I don't really like attention, but it's hard to avoid it when I'm actively seeking it. I start to strive for perfection instead of keeping true to my ways when there's eyes on me, and it's tiring and depressing and makes me not want to keep going anymore. But that's not your fault, reader, but mine. This flawed mind works in funny ways, and if I want a diary I want it for myself, but if I can't share then there's no sense in having it. So what do I do?
Shit sucks, life sucks, I suck. Things just go my way too much sometimes.
Someone said I have a "way with words", and I felt very flattered and happy and it made me smile. Sorry for not having it here, but if you're reading this, thank you.
I'll make a real post around here not long from now, hopefully. And if you managed to read this, why did you do it?