Another blog, probably my millionth.
You would not believe how many of these things of mine have failed just because I couldn't consistently write about things.
[rant:] It isn't because I don't know how to write or even because I don't know what I want to write about. This was often times true but to be honest, if I wanted to write something, I would just write it, no?
If you read the above and are still reading that means you understand what is wrong with my writing. It's absolutely uninteresting to read. There's nothing gripping, nothing honestly good about it, it just is what it is. There is honesty though, no?
The first thing I ought to do is say, "Hello!". You are going to embark on a journey with me. A heavily inconsistent journey that I, as of the moment of writing this, know not what about.
Surely, these sentence constructions seem funny, no? It's going to get funnier. It'll make you cringe, it'll make you expect things but please don't. This is not that sort of blog.
A few months ago, I informally handed the responsibility of my entire collection of blogs to some girl I like .. but not really. I barely know what I've written in my past decade on the internet to know what exactly to give her access to. So, more or less this blog here that you're reading will be dedicated to removing the clutter in life and unclogging the precious bits of my life from pieces of broken memories... all apostasies. You get the reference.
So, this is me. Admitting I'm no good. Admitting I use the word "I" a lot and that perhaps, I should take responsibility for my sentences and try to write them as people would like to read them. Maybe it should be mentioned that my life doesn't always revolve around me, it revolves around the people I meet on a day to day basis. As a person who has so far been easily influenced, the realization that haunts me to this day is that a truly satisfying and gratifying life cannot be attained through trying to add value to others before adding value to self. Hedonism or not, experiences cannot be given if experiences are not felt [better might be to say "experiences gained"]. That might be the reason that this blog now exists. This blog intends to be an escape from the pressures of living and a release from the isolation of a limited reality. This is just that space where verbosity and verbiage will never be criticized, hopefully.
This blog post began when I had a little more than three hours left in a hackathon and now I have a little less than three hours. Yeah, I'm into competitive coding and if that scares you, good. It scares me too. The next few blog posts will be scheduled for whatever tomorrow exists at 3am in the morning. Funny how numero tres is coincidentally popping up. These kinds of things get me paranoid sometimes.
Well, I'm not going to thank you for reading all this. These are words from a mind that is not afraid to be wrong, I wish I was like this more often. Perhaps, if I had more friends and didn't feel like an absolute loser most of the time. Ha, now that's an appeal for sympathy. That's not needed. It's the same toxic thing as judgement.
So, whatever be that you understood out of this, take away that it is awesome to start writing imagining some readers. If you leave a comment or something on anything you find interesting, I'd know you exist and will probably try to talk to you because I like talking. This should be obvious from the way I put words into these paragraphs, if you can call them that.
I'm not sure how big the average human attention span is nowadays but surely, grazing through this post, you'll have some idea how cluttered my mind is with thoughts and how ugly it is that most of these thoughts concern my perspective on mainly myself [because, a few years ago, someone asked me once if I was self-conscience and I haven't gotten over that] and incline heavily to depressing things that needn't deserve mention.
Writing is supposed to make a person feel, no? I don't feel any more relieved on writing this much as I started. Probably because nothing substantial, relevant or motivating was said in it.
Well, life isn't always inspiring. Sometimes it's dull, tiring and dry just like these words. Perhaps, such metathought isn't productive even though it feels analytical. Simply put, maybe I'm just not doing it right.
... i do not know anyone who can understand this ...
You would not believe how many of these things of mine have failed just because I couldn't consistently write about things.
[rant:] It isn't because I don't know how to write or even because I don't know what I want to write about. This was often times true but to be honest, if I wanted to write something, I would just write it, no?
If you read the above and are still reading that means you understand what is wrong with my writing. It's absolutely uninteresting to read. There's nothing gripping, nothing honestly good about it, it just is what it is. There is honesty though, no?
The first thing I ought to do is say, "Hello!". You are going to embark on a journey with me. A heavily inconsistent journey that I, as of the moment of writing this, know not what about.
Surely, these sentence constructions seem funny, no? It's going to get funnier. It'll make you cringe, it'll make you expect things but please don't. This is not that sort of blog.
A few months ago, I informally handed the responsibility of my entire collection of blogs to some girl I like .. but not really. I barely know what I've written in my past decade on the internet to know what exactly to give her access to. So, more or less this blog here that you're reading will be dedicated to removing the clutter in life and unclogging the precious bits of my life from pieces of broken memories... all apostasies. You get the reference.
So, this is me. Admitting I'm no good. Admitting I use the word "I" a lot and that perhaps, I should take responsibility for my sentences and try to write them as people would like to read them. Maybe it should be mentioned that my life doesn't always revolve around me, it revolves around the people I meet on a day to day basis. As a person who has so far been easily influenced, the realization that haunts me to this day is that a truly satisfying and gratifying life cannot be attained through trying to add value to others before adding value to self. Hedonism or not, experiences cannot be given if experiences are not felt [better might be to say "experiences gained"]. That might be the reason that this blog now exists. This blog intends to be an escape from the pressures of living and a release from the isolation of a limited reality. This is just that space where verbosity and verbiage will never be criticized, hopefully.
This blog post began when I had a little more than three hours left in a hackathon and now I have a little less than three hours. Yeah, I'm into competitive coding and if that scares you, good. It scares me too. The next few blog posts will be scheduled for whatever tomorrow exists at 3am in the morning. Funny how numero tres is coincidentally popping up. These kinds of things get me paranoid sometimes.
Well, I'm not going to thank you for reading all this. These are words from a mind that is not afraid to be wrong, I wish I was like this more often. Perhaps, if I had more friends and didn't feel like an absolute loser most of the time. Ha, now that's an appeal for sympathy. That's not needed. It's the same toxic thing as judgement.
So, whatever be that you understood out of this, take away that it is awesome to start writing imagining some readers. If you leave a comment or something on anything you find interesting, I'd know you exist and will probably try to talk to you because I like talking. This should be obvious from the way I put words into these paragraphs, if you can call them that.
I'm not sure how big the average human attention span is nowadays but surely, grazing through this post, you'll have some idea how cluttered my mind is with thoughts and how ugly it is that most of these thoughts concern my perspective on mainly myself [because, a few years ago, someone asked me once if I was self-conscience and I haven't gotten over that] and incline heavily to depressing things that needn't deserve mention.
Writing is supposed to make a person feel, no? I don't feel any more relieved on writing this much as I started. Probably because nothing substantial, relevant or motivating was said in it.
Well, life isn't always inspiring. Sometimes it's dull, tiring and dry just like these words. Perhaps, such metathought isn't productive even though it feels analytical. Simply put, maybe I'm just not doing it right.
... i do not know anyone who can understand this ...
... it's a shot in the dark ...
... out of 7b46m, atleast 1 will find this ... and understand ...
Till next time.
Till next time.
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