I finished writing a terribly sarcastic second round of this novel and once I hit the Publish button the site crashed and I lost everything.
Ok, Universe. Point taken. I'll cut the crap and be honest. That was the whole purpose of this... whatever it is, to begin with.
In the episode I lost I was telling you about blogs. Not IG profiles or Twitter or TikToks or whatever kids consider blogging to be today. I mean good, ol' Blogger pages born from cheesy free templates you could download from dubious websites.
We humans are a stupidly complex species and back then, my addition to blogs made me one of the prime specimens. In my huge loneliness, I craved for a connection. I wanted to reach out and feel something. I wanted people to hear me out and interact with me, I wanted them to feel like me, to be one with me. That being said, I've always fucking hated humanity, so my urges for proximity were as fervent as my frank need to be left alone. I wanted to hide under a rock and be ignored. I wanted people to say out of my business, to let me be, to stop asking me for directions, I'm sorry ma'am, I'm not familiar with this area, please stop talking to me, you're giving me anxiety.
Blogs made both Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde feel mildly satisfied, which was more than enough.
I would publish my deepest agonies, my darkest fears, my most animalistic honesty to the world, and yet remain unseen and undetected.
Sure, if you got to the 1000th Google search result page you could have stumbled with one of my pages. But alas, no one ever did.
I used those blogs to extract the venomous crap rotting my soul and go on for another day. I'd create them, post on them for a couple of weeks, maybe months, and then delete them once my mind regained a hint of stability.
Crappy week at work? Blog.
Health's acting up again? Blog.
Cheated on? Blog.
Anxiety? Blog.
Stepped on dog shit? Blog.
It was a healing enough experience altogether and kept me away from sleeping pills. You know those people who played The Sims only to spend hours building the houses? This was exhilarating like that, without the moral guilt of deleting the pool's ladder and watching tiny digital people drown.
I was gonna replace the lost episode with a meaninful, open letter from the bottom of my heart, but I ended up rambling about blogs again.
What are you doing here, by the way? Haven't you seen the shitload of worthy novels out there? Them Mary Sues are reencarnating into angsty royalty all over the place, gorgeous men are falling in love with each other, angels, demons, the whole talented parade.
Just like the social worker taking your Sims baby away even though you deleted all the doors in the house, prospects don't look very optimistic around here.
Comments (1)
See all