Let's call the eyeball off

I don't have any books to read. Now this may be a self-serving statement, but it amazes me as to how I managed to write this good without getting myself exposed by the greats of Western literature. I read newspapers as a kid, but only for the typography and the layout. I only attribute my handwriting to my efforts trying to imitate every sans serif face I see, and there's always my habit, up to now, to read the newspaper from the last page to the first.

Get surprised, guys. I've been uninspired as of late. Maybe all this repression isn't working, because for once, I'm actually winning the war on unwarranted thoughts! Every term break I always complain of idle time, and the way it makes me think about what I have left behind and what I wish it was before I left it. But now, after nine hours in front of the PC, I have thrown away three blog entries, hoping that the fourth one - this one - survives and makes sense to the reading public, which surprisingly is growing.

But it must be a crazy idea for someone to decide that, yes, the world must be able to read my diary, through the wonder that is the Internet. And eventually my writing has evolved to talk less and less about what exactly happens in my life. Finally mastering the art of the euphemism, you might say, or even repression. Now, I'm lost for a topic.

Sometimes bloggers manage to write effortlessly. I mean, all they have to do is look around and they'll be able to infuse their humor and get things rolling. I know, a lot have said the same for me, being observant and quick and all that, but it just doesn't happen the same way. You write about the rain, and by the time you're finished I'm reading yours, already given up on whatever you might be suggesting. So I tend to, yes, half-copy! Play on your idea, and hope nobody realizes it.

As much as I hate having emotional baggage, I sometimes miss the days when I actually had something to write about, however clichéd it eventually turns out. Those days when all I cared about is impressing someone, or maybe trying to patch up what never needed fixing in the first place. Come to think of it, though, when I read those entries again I realize how, well, clichéd I was, how trashy my phrases were in continuing to extol what two-thirds of the bands in the local music scene kept singing (and weeping) about. You can only talk about relationships (take note, I used "relationships" instead of "love") for so long, and then they'll expect you to grow up, or lose a job. That probably happened to some of the bands today. We just got tired of listening to them say "I love you" to a hypothetical girl, or they did.

They all say that focusing is a good thing, a sign of maturity, especially in a world where television channels fight for your attention, where the news changes every minute, and where people are no longer content with what is said and done. I can say I've grown up somehow, because finally, I've stopped thinking about all of the nonsense with regards to crushes and loves, and the lack of it, although me insisting I won't get married is still a crazy leftover. It could very much be a matter of finding something new to write about, because you're just used to seeing the same (tired) things on everything. That's why I've been taking so long.

With relationships, well, I've been doing a lot less leaping than before. I never really told myself that studies would come first, because after all, we're humans who get attracted to people, much more at this point when you have the urge to perform mathematics on the population. Let's leave it at that - it's one of the complicated things that those bloggers never write about, for fear that they'd be dismissed as a mere diary, and lose readers in the process. (But I never feared that, simply because we have to face the fact that it's what makes the world go round. Or so they say.) No wonder these so-called good writers only write about other people, not about themselves.

But that's not the reason why I'm dropping the eyeball for more idle time over the weekend. I know the community would understand. Besides, I'm not as big as they are, and only one's begging me to go. Speaking of which, that one person is having second thoughts, and that's partly caused by my own begging. I may not write like them, but hey, I still have a quarter of your influence.

And your responses...

wow mdyo nag mature ka dito nice one keep it up ^_^ and thanks for adding me in ur links

Blogger Lizette9/08/2007     

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