You do not know what you've got 'til it's gone. Not strictly true, I think, but it's weird how you can suddenly realise that someone/something was waaaay more important to you than you previously imagined, especially if you already thought it/they were pretty damn important and it turns out you still underestimated them.
My last post on here was so pessimistic that had I been a reader rather than the writer I think I'd have been referring the author to the Samaritans. I believe it's crucial to point out that I always play a character online (quite often offline too, tbh) so while most of what I write is genuinely what I think, not all of it is of me and none of it is the whole of me. I play up certain characteristics to fit the tone of what I want to say. If I'm feeling shit and want catharsis I will tell you every reason why I feel shit and not mention any lingering optimism I may have (this example is the most frequent) and if I'm feeling good and want to celebrate it I'll probably not mention whatever bad thoughts are going on under the surface. Anyways, if you read that post and you read this one too soon after you'll probably notice such a fierce change of direction that you may get whiplash (the author takes no responsibility for injuries incurred while reading this piece; you have been warned and continue to read at your own risk but if you're so weak as to be genuinely injured by metaphorical events you've done well to get this far through life and I offer my congratulations) but that doesn't mean I'm so bi-polar that I genuinely went from depressed to ecstatic in half an hour (although that might be the case, despite my protestations, idk, I'm pretty fucked up, you know).
See? Wistfulness to whimsy in bugger all time.
Part of the turnaround was that having mentioned last time that blogging had lost its appeal I decided to go back and read stuff from when I used to find it more enjoyable. I occasionally do this. Going back to my old posts gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, like I'm reaching out and touching that past life of mine, like I could almost inhabit that personality once again and enjoy life more fully than I have in some considerable while.
Also, to get back to the point made in my first paragraph, I went to read blogs from other people I know who were writing at the same time as me and rediscovered a true gem. Liv, on the off-chance that you read this, I bloody love you. Not in like a kissy-face way, more kind of like we're cousins who don't see each other often but have had good times in the past when we were closer. I don't think I fully appreciated you back when we were closer acquaintances and I know I was distant, but that's just my personality, it wasn't a reaction to you in any way. I probably still wouldn't be able to say this sort of stuff face-to-face, tbh, but that doesn't make it less true. It's also true of my other blogging buddies, y'all know who you are.
Soo... that was awkward. Moving on...
I read those blogs of mine and others and couldn't stop smiling. Those friends I had were such a part of me and those blogs we wrote were - to me at least - like little letters between truly dear friends. The language, the people and places mentioned, heck just the being up at 1am reading blogs, it all took me right back to the happiest time in my life. I still don't feel good about tomorrow, but I've rediscovered some cracking yesterdays that I can look back on and smile.
That happiness of nostalgia is so weird, it has all the ingredients of sadness, it even has a similar quale to sadness (for me at least) but it fills me with more joy than I can quite contain. I am genuinely getting slightly teary-eyed as I write. I miss those days so much it is a physical sensation; just above my stomach there is a soupçon of wibblyness (I know not how else to articulate the sensation), in my cheeks a slight quiver.
I remember how I connected with the person I came to consider my best friend through this medium, at least partially, though also through real-world contact. Sadly we don't talk that much these days and I am the last one of my contemporaries on this particular coalface of the blogoshpere - still stolidly chipping letters away to form semi-coherent sentences, the lone typer - so this first and best mode of contact is pretty much obsolete.
We - all of us - blogged the right way; we were honest, we talked about ourselves and our lives and we didn't give a fuck if it got read (though I did harbour hopes of having a bigger following, if I'm honest) but mostly we did it because we wanted to, not because we thought we were going to change the world or get rich (again, I wouldn't have objected to either of those things).
I read through some of what remains of our little online community, some of it is lost I fear, taken down for one reason or another (I know a number of my posts were culled through sheer embarrassment and it seems other people's have gone the same way, or have been kidnapped by ghosts in the code) but some still stands and from it you can even imply some of what was there before the various removals. Like a digital stonehenge, declaring that HERE WE WERE and we lived and we loved and laughed and did everyday things and stupid things and amazing things and the odd extraordinary thing.
We worked, you know, we clicked. As a group we fitted. While I despaired of just about everything (mostly I wrote of despair, despaired of my writing, wrote of writing, wrote of despairing at my despairing of my writing, despaired of my despair and wrote of my despair at writing about despair over despairing at writing about despair), others wrote the other side of the coin without making it an argument or contradiction, we agreed on most basic points and we just shared our points of view on each; some were angry, some were exasperated, some were optimistic. When we wrote posts that were on the same subject but totally antithetic in interpretation we still seemed to me to respect, empathise with and totally understand the other point of view. Some even wrote about how people who constantly despair are really bloody annoying and - though I despaired - I could not but nod in agreement.
I was the only one, I think, who seriously wanted to do stuff like this for a living - in a totally different way to this, of course; a personal blog like this could not, would not and should not be a money maker. However, I was easily the least talented (about which I frequently despaired) and the weird thing about that is that I didn't care. Jealousy is probably my overriding trait (except despa- yeah you get it) and I know personally a few (semi-)professional writers who I have a lot of envy towards which has ruined our friendships, but in this little circle of firelight I genuinely revelled in these beautiful people writing their beautiful words.
I needed a pick-me-up tonight and though in the morning I will regret staying up 'til 3am I have to thank those people whose words from the past reached out picked me up from my lowest ebb in a while. I know that if I touched your lives at all it was insignificant and fleeting but once again I have to say how deeply you all have touched mine and how grateful I am to know you. I could go on all night but that last sentence should be my conclusion, I feel. It's hackneyed, cheesy crap, but what did you expect from me?
See? Wistfulness to whimsy in bugger all time.
Part of the turnaround was that having mentioned last time that blogging had lost its appeal I decided to go back and read stuff from when I used to find it more enjoyable. I occasionally do this. Going back to my old posts gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, like I'm reaching out and touching that past life of mine, like I could almost inhabit that personality once again and enjoy life more fully than I have in some considerable while.
Also, to get back to the point made in my first paragraph, I went to read blogs from other people I know who were writing at the same time as me and rediscovered a true gem. Liv, on the off-chance that you read this, I bloody love you. Not in like a kissy-face way, more kind of like we're cousins who don't see each other often but have had good times in the past when we were closer. I don't think I fully appreciated you back when we were closer acquaintances and I know I was distant, but that's just my personality, it wasn't a reaction to you in any way. I probably still wouldn't be able to say this sort of stuff face-to-face, tbh, but that doesn't make it less true. It's also true of my other blogging buddies, y'all know who you are.
Soo... that was awkward. Moving on...
I read those blogs of mine and others and couldn't stop smiling. Those friends I had were such a part of me and those blogs we wrote were - to me at least - like little letters between truly dear friends. The language, the people and places mentioned, heck just the being up at 1am reading blogs, it all took me right back to the happiest time in my life. I still don't feel good about tomorrow, but I've rediscovered some cracking yesterdays that I can look back on and smile.
That happiness of nostalgia is so weird, it has all the ingredients of sadness, it even has a similar quale to sadness (for me at least) but it fills me with more joy than I can quite contain. I am genuinely getting slightly teary-eyed as I write. I miss those days so much it is a physical sensation; just above my stomach there is a soupçon of wibblyness (I know not how else to articulate the sensation), in my cheeks a slight quiver.
I remember how I connected with the person I came to consider my best friend through this medium, at least partially, though also through real-world contact. Sadly we don't talk that much these days and I am the last one of my contemporaries on this particular coalface of the blogoshpere - still stolidly chipping letters away to form semi-coherent sentences, the lone typer - so this first and best mode of contact is pretty much obsolete.
We - all of us - blogged the right way; we were honest, we talked about ourselves and our lives and we didn't give a fuck if it got read (though I did harbour hopes of having a bigger following, if I'm honest) but mostly we did it because we wanted to, not because we thought we were going to change the world or get rich (again, I wouldn't have objected to either of those things).
I read through some of what remains of our little online community, some of it is lost I fear, taken down for one reason or another (I know a number of my posts were culled through sheer embarrassment and it seems other people's have gone the same way, or have been kidnapped by ghosts in the code) but some still stands and from it you can even imply some of what was there before the various removals. Like a digital stonehenge, declaring that HERE WE WERE and we lived and we loved and laughed and did everyday things and stupid things and amazing things and the odd extraordinary thing.
We worked, you know, we clicked. As a group we fitted. While I despaired of just about everything (mostly I wrote of despair, despaired of my writing, wrote of writing, wrote of despairing at my despairing of my writing, despaired of my despair and wrote of my despair at writing about despair over despairing at writing about despair), others wrote the other side of the coin without making it an argument or contradiction, we agreed on most basic points and we just shared our points of view on each; some were angry, some were exasperated, some were optimistic. When we wrote posts that were on the same subject but totally antithetic in interpretation we still seemed to me to respect, empathise with and totally understand the other point of view. Some even wrote about how people who constantly despair are really bloody annoying and - though I despaired - I could not but nod in agreement.
I was the only one, I think, who seriously wanted to do stuff like this for a living - in a totally different way to this, of course; a personal blog like this could not, would not and should not be a money maker. However, I was easily the least talented (about which I frequently despaired) and the weird thing about that is that I didn't care. Jealousy is probably my overriding trait (except despa- yeah you get it) and I know personally a few (semi-)professional writers who I have a lot of envy towards which has ruined our friendships, but in this little circle of firelight I genuinely revelled in these beautiful people writing their beautiful words.
I needed a pick-me-up tonight and though in the morning I will regret staying up 'til 3am I have to thank those people whose words from the past reached out picked me up from my lowest ebb in a while. I know that if I touched your lives at all it was insignificant and fleeting but once again I have to say how deeply you all have touched mine and how grateful I am to know you. I could go on all night but that last sentence should be my conclusion, I feel. It's hackneyed, cheesy crap, but what did you expect from me?
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