love

I love writing here.

I do, though I may not update as much to show for it, but I do. I like pouring out words which have no apparent meaning, post rationalizing and convince myself that I'm a genius for coming up with said words.

I love the freedom to say what I feel here, with no consequences or effects, on the outside world. When I'm here I can be as irresponsible as I want to, as non-sensible as I want to, and as stupid or as narcissistic as I want to.

Here I can escape from being an adult for a while, stop growing up and start reverting time to when everything was more innocent.

I absolutely love love love it.

I love that my blog doesn't have any readers but myself.

Maybe that isn't true, but I certainly would not want my blog to become mega famous like kennysia.com or minishorts.com. cause thats when the shit hits the fan and you choose your path. Change or Die.

I like my friends reading it. Why I can't say for sure. It's a mixture of gratification because someone reads what you write, and ... well mostly that I think.

I don't really like my loved ones and family reading it.... not to say that friends aren't part of loved ones... but you oughta get whata Ima saying. Mostly because they're the harshest critics of me. I can't really be myself in front of family. It's such a burden. Maybe because secretly I despise myself, I hate who I am, but I have no problem showing it in front of other people, but in front of blood-relations I'm scared shitless. They're the most judgemental I suppose, of me I mean.

Or perhaps deep down inside me I know that I can never become what they REALLY want me to be. Most probably because it contradicts everything that I have built to define myself. No matter how much the monkey tells itself it's a swan, it can never become a swan, and in this case the monkey doesn't WANT to become a swan anyway. But other monkeys seem to want it to be so....

Argh a swan is a pretty bad metaphor, but I think I've had my say.

....

sigh.