Blogging and some reflecting.

So I do a lot of blog surfing and I mean a lot. Some blogs are just crappy and (heh) I get some twisted pleasure in dismissing them. Some are just oh my god so good, that everything I write here seems trite and forced. So I figure it's a good trade. Okay but to elaborate.. I find that a lot of people expose themselves on their blog and I used to find it so weird. I recently came across an old classmate's blog and I was shocked to learn how depressed she was. She had always seemed annoyingly chirpy and just full of zest. She was always bouncing down the hallway with her ponytail bobbing behind her. I remember getting seriously annoyed with all the happiness. I guess something seemed so wrong about it even then. But on her blog she sounds incredibly lonely and sad. It's not so shocking that people hide who they are or how they feel but what's shocking to me is that her blog is right up there on her Facebook profile. It's for everybody to see. I wonder why people do that-hide in one circumstance and yell for attention in another. It seems so pathetic.

Now me, I feel like I've always been consistently dark and depressed. I keep thinking how it's pretty obvious who I am. I am not going to make the effort to get to know you if I don't want to. It's pretty simple. I'll just make sure I'm weird enough so you wouldn't be shocked if you spoke to me. Okay I don't look weird but I wasn't ever friendly or overly talkative, guffawing at what everybody said. I would practically run out of the department. I mean I made it pretty clear that I didn't mind not fitting in. I don't think anybody would be surprised if they knew how dark I was. I remember this annoying girl(god I sound terrible!) grabbed my Dali notebook in which I was happily sketching one day and started reading as if it was her god given right to. And I had some pretty heavy stuff in there. I got so angry. I just couldn't be polite about that intrusion and I made it pretty obvious. I just find it really funny that I choose to expose myself over here.

I wonder about the kind of people who read my blog and what message I must be sending out to them. I've been closely analysing my posts( wow I need a life!) and I realised I shy away from exposing myself directly. It's in the I-think-I''m so-witty-comments and the self deprecating humour that I'm most naked. And I wonder if people look any closer? Or do they chuckle or *sigh* at the tired humour and then move on? (See? Did it again. *Sigh* It's like a disease) But anyway, I figured I should allow myself a little more license, be a little naive and yes allow myself to be excited/depressed about life and just spread myself all over this blog for the amusement and disdain of the readers. I mean, I wonder who I'm fooling with all this unnecessary humour anyway? So I decided I'm going to do a lot more "personal posts". Anybody else's amusement or disdain is their business-it's their property, I can't do much to prevent it.

The Shins

THE PAST AND PENDING
As someone sets light to the first fire of autumn
We settle down to cut ourselves apart.
Cough and twitch from the news on your face
And some foreign candle burning in your eyes

Held to the past too aware of the pending
Chill as the dawn breaks and finds us up for sale.
Enter the fog another low road descending
Away from the cold lust, you house and summertime.

Blind to the last cursed affair pistols and countless eyes
A trail of white blood betrays the reckless route your craft is running
Feed till the sun turns into wood dousing an ancient torch
Loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love.

Your name on my cast and my notes on your stay
Offer me little but doting on a crime.
We've turned every stone and for all our inventions
In matters of love loss, we've no recourse at all.

Blind to the last cursed affair pistols and countless eyes
A trail of white blood betrays the reckless route your craft is running
Feed till the sun turns into wood dousing an ancient torch
Loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love.

********************************

I couldn't resist.