I’ve neglected blogging for almost a year now. I feel like I’ve become a shallower person as a result. A friend asked me once for my opinion regarding a suitor of hers. The first question I asked her was: “does he have a blog?” As soon as she said no, I said that he was not worth her time.
I judged a lot of people that way. The people whom I found interesting were usually those who wanted to keep concrete records of their opinions, convictions or feelings, whether that be through writing, art or even video/audio recordings.
I had a certain respect for people who felt that their thoughts or opinions were significant enough for them to be ascribed some sort of permanence. The human mind is always in a state of flux. Thoughts are generated, morphed and oftentimes lost. Thoughts are so fundamental to a person’s existence that losing them forever almost seems like a sin. And there’s a finalizing quality to writing in that when you write down a thought or an opinion, it becomes, in a way, final. It acquires a definite and tangible form and structure and ceases to be just a jumble of spontaneous thought bubbles that pop in and out of existence. It becomes like a photograph, only not of one’s face but of one’s mind
I’ve been re-reading a lot of my past entries. When you revisit memories they’re usually not the same as when you first experienced them. Even the strongest of feelings subside eventually and with them, go the thoughts that they produced. It’s nice to read your thoughts at the time that they were conceived, thoughts that may otherwise have been forgotten. It’s nice to know what your convictions were or if you had any. And it’s nice to know if you still feel as strongly about them
I feel like I have changed a lot the past few months. Whether for the better of for the worse is a matter of perspective. I’ve modified some goals. I'm not as profit oriented anymore
I got into photography, I went dating, socializing, clubbing(WTH?!), expanded my group of friends, acquired a new appreciation for fireworks. I also experienced betrayal, jealousy, I almost got into a fight, felt the highs of passion and the lows of inadequacy -Normal things for most normal people but keep in mind that I used to spend months not interacting with a single person.
Such a drastic change in lifestyle would probably lead to an equally drastic change in personality. But I take comfort in the fact that even if I change or even if I lose half of my brain mass due to intellectual inactivity, I’ll have a record of who I was.
I write for a variety of reasons. But most significant of all, I write for the same reason that people erect monuments to fallen heroes, or for the same reason that people seemingly waste large areas of land to preserve historical structures - to create a permanent imprint of that which is fleeting, time