The Question of the Blog.
Mood: Inquisitive
Music: Alexisonfire - Control
So yeah, it's been another long ass period without me having posted anything. What, something like a month and a half, maybe more? I'm not really sure anymore. It doesn't even matter. Basta. Tagal na.
Sitting here typing this, I'm beginning to wonder why I keep a blog at all. It's not like highschool anymore. Those days were made possible by the immense amount of free time created by my apathy towards responsibility, my own DSL connection (accompanied naturally by my ever faithful extra appendage, my laptop) and I dunno. Basta, accessible computer and internet, anytime I wanted. Naturally, things have changed. Can't avoid the inevitable. So now the only real computer I use is the one in the den here at my dad's place. For starters, let me have you take note of a few things just to give you an idea of the initial problem: time on the internet itself.
1. The den is usually locked late at night, and the keys are kept in the kitchen, which, from my room, is only accessible through the dining room, which too, is usually looked late at night. Guess where the keys are? Yup, kitchen.
2. In direct relation to #1, more often than not, I'm in the mood to do all my shit online at insane hours of the night/early morning. I don't know if it's due to my nocturnal tendencies, when I'm actually home... whatever... basta, yun yun.
3. When I'm actually home during the day, I must compete with my Multiply/Friendster/YM frenzied sisters with social lives and well-being that revolve around aforementioned worlds, not to my mention my dad and kuya, who each admit to their obsessions to online card games and things of the like.
4. I'm never bloody home anymore.
I mean... 99% of the time I think of something to write, there is no computer to be found, much less internet. And that's just the initial problem. I mean, in the old days, my laptop would be sitting on my desk in my room connected to the internet 24/7... even if I wasn't home, the computer was the first thing I would touch the minute I got back. Even drunk and about to pass out after a night on the town, I can remember countless times sitting half conscious in front of that bloody laptop talking to some poor soul on MSN who had to put up with my crap, or blogging, or checking my email or whatever before I crashed. My computer was my life. It was hooked up to my speakers which were mounted on the walls... Everything and anything I did was through my computer. I didn't have a tv in the house, nor would I use it even if i did.
Blogs seem to be perfect for the person who's world revolves around their computer. Problem is, mine isn't anymore, regardless of whether I prefer it that way or not. That's a discussion for another day. (I'm not sure I'm so sad about that anymore)
Moving on though, i'm really beginning to wonder what the point is anymore. I mean... I used to blog to release things, or because maybe I felt like it, or maybe there was something I thought I wanted to share. I think sometimes it got to the point where I felt like I was obligated to say something... I hate that. And I don't see the point in writing about the "I did this, i did that" blah blah... first of all, who the fuck cares? And does it provide some sort of catharsic release? No, not really. Ok, maybe once in a blue moon. If you ask me, it's seems more of a habit than therapy after a while. Perhaps we're all just a little vain and like to think somewhere in the back of our minds that people actually give two shits about what we did today, even if we ourselves didn't really. At least, not enough to make a big deal about it and put it on the internet. And yet, we do. Why? Because chances are, someone will read it, and you know what? That feels good. But seriously, its a good question to ask one's self: How self serving can you get?
And then once in a while maybe you think you write something creative or that actually has meaning and you post it up there. Maybe people will comment. Hey, sometimes people comment on the "blah-blah" posts. Face it, no matter how much you try and admit it, everyone who maintains a blog, even in the slightest bit, expects SOMEONE to read it, and takes pleasure in knowing that that's happened.
Yeah, comments make you feel good. (How little of your own thought do you want to keep?)
Sometimes even the shitty ones; they're enough to tell you that someone is taking interest in your existence. People are indirectly involved in your life, your world, your thoughts, your process. And it feels good. But it's all so robotic. So mechanical. It's like a pop culture based on wires and 0's and 1's that's just been disguised by layers of human input. Emotion her, poetry there, literary flair there... but it's not real. It's not tangible. People end up devoting so much time to putting up all these words and experiences on the internet, commenting and questioning all these things... to what avail? Hell, sometimes people just put up things they find amusing... those little quizzes, a comic strip... whatever.
I think what I'm trying to say is sometimes it really bothers me because after a while, it seems the lives that are led aren't real. When the servers all crash and everything goes to shit and no one has a single archived post out there... what's left? Where's the real world? Where did all that time go? What happened to going out and doing something, instead of talking about it in words online? Cuz if it all disappears one day, what do you gain out of it all, as opposed to going out there and doing it the real way? It becomes a habit that takes away time from so much of the real things in life. All you'd be left of is memories of countless moments spent in front of the computer screen physically idle mentally masturbating as your scratch your itch for that online culture, recollections of old posts and comments and perhaps even a whole folder of backed up entries and old avatars that you painstakingly worked on just so that your comments would leave an impression whether you had something to really say or not.
And I'm not saying it's all bad. It just makes you wonder. Because as I've said, ostensibly, it's fulfilling in many aspects... but you have to wonder. So is heroine. So is the sex before you find out they have AIDs. Go figure. (But ok, maybe those were a little heavy. :p)
And the interesting thing is half the time bloggers are the overanalytical type... the overthinkers and the out of the boxers... the creators and movers... the paradigm of such intellectuals in certainly not helped by a world that promotes thought over action. Hell, already by its nature the blog world is conducive to circular logic and thought. And usually for the aforementioned personas. Well. That = paralysis. It's like defeating yourself over and over and over again by doing the same things and expecting the same results. And you go bitch about it online, cuz it's what you do and it makes you feel better. And you share what you think you could have done better... what went wrong... what else you could have/should have done... and people will tell you it's ok, or people will give advice... some people may attack you... but it's your world, and you're stuck in it.. an endless circle of answer and reply, do you care if i care, what do you think of this, should I shouldn't I, Me me me, you you you, he said, she said, fuck it all, I love, I hate it, I want, I don't want, I like, I think, I feel, I fear, maybe, always, today, now, forever, childhood, school, work, people, time, space, good, bad, right, wrong... THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK. Vomit.
So ask yourself. When will THINK ever be more than DO? (Sadly. Depressingly. Never.)
And you never know who reads the stuff.. I mean, maybe you do. But sometimes I think about the concept of just shitting out so much of yourself for people to read, self-serving or not, and it sickens me. And sometimes I realize that this whole world of blogging is like... just a bunch of people who want to be heard who scratch each others backs. And sometimes I wonder if i really want to be part of that. Sometimes I wonder if I have that much time to devote, seeing as I've actually discovered there is life without being glued to a computer all the time. And you miss so much - you really do. And this is coming from former mr. "I never leave my computer... ever" mind you.
And he's done it again. THINK THINK THINK is what I just did and I just vomited a completely unorganized thought-fart onto the internet. But there's something behind it... if it's not clear to you (if anyone does read this) it's beginning to come into shape in my mind. Maybe it'll be more cohesive in the morning. To blog or not to blog, that is the question. Maybe my frustration really just does come from not have the time or access to write whenever I want to, and I'm just ranting my ass off cuz i think blogging is great, and I am self-serving and all those things. So what. Say what you think and do what you want, cuz the people that mind don't matter and the people that matter don't mind. OK JAY GO TO BED. STOP THINKING. HERE WE GO AGAIN. EXPECT MORE SOON. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Music: Alexisonfire - Control
So yeah, it's been another long ass period without me having posted anything. What, something like a month and a half, maybe more? I'm not really sure anymore. It doesn't even matter. Basta. Tagal na.
Sitting here typing this, I'm beginning to wonder why I keep a blog at all. It's not like highschool anymore. Those days were made possible by the immense amount of free time created by my apathy towards responsibility, my own DSL connection (accompanied naturally by my ever faithful extra appendage, my laptop) and I dunno. Basta, accessible computer and internet, anytime I wanted. Naturally, things have changed. Can't avoid the inevitable. So now the only real computer I use is the one in the den here at my dad's place. For starters, let me have you take note of a few things just to give you an idea of the initial problem: time on the internet itself.
1. The den is usually locked late at night, and the keys are kept in the kitchen, which, from my room, is only accessible through the dining room, which too, is usually looked late at night. Guess where the keys are? Yup, kitchen.
2. In direct relation to #1, more often than not, I'm in the mood to do all my shit online at insane hours of the night/early morning. I don't know if it's due to my nocturnal tendencies, when I'm actually home... whatever... basta, yun yun.
3. When I'm actually home during the day, I must compete with my Multiply/Friendster/YM frenzied sisters with social lives and well-being that revolve around aforementioned worlds, not to my mention my dad and kuya, who each admit to their obsessions to online card games and things of the like.
4. I'm never bloody home anymore.
I mean... 99% of the time I think of something to write, there is no computer to be found, much less internet. And that's just the initial problem. I mean, in the old days, my laptop would be sitting on my desk in my room connected to the internet 24/7... even if I wasn't home, the computer was the first thing I would touch the minute I got back. Even drunk and about to pass out after a night on the town, I can remember countless times sitting half conscious in front of that bloody laptop talking to some poor soul on MSN who had to put up with my crap, or blogging, or checking my email or whatever before I crashed. My computer was my life. It was hooked up to my speakers which were mounted on the walls... Everything and anything I did was through my computer. I didn't have a tv in the house, nor would I use it even if i did.
Blogs seem to be perfect for the person who's world revolves around their computer. Problem is, mine isn't anymore, regardless of whether I prefer it that way or not. That's a discussion for another day. (I'm not sure I'm so sad about that anymore)
Moving on though, i'm really beginning to wonder what the point is anymore. I mean... I used to blog to release things, or because maybe I felt like it, or maybe there was something I thought I wanted to share. I think sometimes it got to the point where I felt like I was obligated to say something... I hate that. And I don't see the point in writing about the "I did this, i did that" blah blah... first of all, who the fuck cares? And does it provide some sort of catharsic release? No, not really. Ok, maybe once in a blue moon. If you ask me, it's seems more of a habit than therapy after a while. Perhaps we're all just a little vain and like to think somewhere in the back of our minds that people actually give two shits about what we did today, even if we ourselves didn't really. At least, not enough to make a big deal about it and put it on the internet. And yet, we do. Why? Because chances are, someone will read it, and you know what? That feels good. But seriously, its a good question to ask one's self: How self serving can you get?
And then once in a while maybe you think you write something creative or that actually has meaning and you post it up there. Maybe people will comment. Hey, sometimes people comment on the "blah-blah" posts. Face it, no matter how much you try and admit it, everyone who maintains a blog, even in the slightest bit, expects SOMEONE to read it, and takes pleasure in knowing that that's happened.
Yeah, comments make you feel good. (How little of your own thought do you want to keep?)
Sometimes even the shitty ones; they're enough to tell you that someone is taking interest in your existence. People are indirectly involved in your life, your world, your thoughts, your process. And it feels good. But it's all so robotic. So mechanical. It's like a pop culture based on wires and 0's and 1's that's just been disguised by layers of human input. Emotion her, poetry there, literary flair there... but it's not real. It's not tangible. People end up devoting so much time to putting up all these words and experiences on the internet, commenting and questioning all these things... to what avail? Hell, sometimes people just put up things they find amusing... those little quizzes, a comic strip... whatever.
I think what I'm trying to say is sometimes it really bothers me because after a while, it seems the lives that are led aren't real. When the servers all crash and everything goes to shit and no one has a single archived post out there... what's left? Where's the real world? Where did all that time go? What happened to going out and doing something, instead of talking about it in words online? Cuz if it all disappears one day, what do you gain out of it all, as opposed to going out there and doing it the real way? It becomes a habit that takes away time from so much of the real things in life. All you'd be left of is memories of countless moments spent in front of the computer screen physically idle mentally masturbating as your scratch your itch for that online culture, recollections of old posts and comments and perhaps even a whole folder of backed up entries and old avatars that you painstakingly worked on just so that your comments would leave an impression whether you had something to really say or not.
And I'm not saying it's all bad. It just makes you wonder. Because as I've said, ostensibly, it's fulfilling in many aspects... but you have to wonder. So is heroine. So is the sex before you find out they have AIDs. Go figure. (But ok, maybe those were a little heavy. :p)
And the interesting thing is half the time bloggers are the overanalytical type... the overthinkers and the out of the boxers... the creators and movers... the paradigm of such intellectuals in certainly not helped by a world that promotes thought over action. Hell, already by its nature the blog world is conducive to circular logic and thought. And usually for the aforementioned personas. Well. That = paralysis. It's like defeating yourself over and over and over again by doing the same things and expecting the same results. And you go bitch about it online, cuz it's what you do and it makes you feel better. And you share what you think you could have done better... what went wrong... what else you could have/should have done... and people will tell you it's ok, or people will give advice... some people may attack you... but it's your world, and you're stuck in it.. an endless circle of answer and reply, do you care if i care, what do you think of this, should I shouldn't I, Me me me, you you you, he said, she said, fuck it all, I love, I hate it, I want, I don't want, I like, I think, I feel, I fear, maybe, always, today, now, forever, childhood, school, work, people, time, space, good, bad, right, wrong... THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK. Vomit.
So ask yourself. When will THINK ever be more than DO? (Sadly. Depressingly. Never.)
And you never know who reads the stuff.. I mean, maybe you do. But sometimes I think about the concept of just shitting out so much of yourself for people to read, self-serving or not, and it sickens me. And sometimes I realize that this whole world of blogging is like... just a bunch of people who want to be heard who scratch each others backs. And sometimes I wonder if i really want to be part of that. Sometimes I wonder if I have that much time to devote, seeing as I've actually discovered there is life without being glued to a computer all the time. And you miss so much - you really do. And this is coming from former mr. "I never leave my computer... ever" mind you.
And he's done it again. THINK THINK THINK is what I just did and I just vomited a completely unorganized thought-fart onto the internet. But there's something behind it... if it's not clear to you (if anyone does read this) it's beginning to come into shape in my mind. Maybe it'll be more cohesive in the morning. To blog or not to blog, that is the question. Maybe my frustration really just does come from not have the time or access to write whenever I want to, and I'm just ranting my ass off cuz i think blogging is great, and I am self-serving and all those things. So what. Say what you think and do what you want, cuz the people that mind don't matter and the people that matter don't mind. OK JAY GO TO BED. STOP THINKING. HERE WE GO AGAIN. EXPECT MORE SOON. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
posted by .: [ dizzyfreak ] :. at 01:41
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