Debut.
Riding on the wordpress bandwagon, I’ve established yet another insidious online existence of my very own. So many times do I entrap myself with the predicament of the lack of articulation and substance, and the very itch to blog that eventually turns into a burn. I can’t be sure how long this satisfactorily artful discourse can last, but I am content that I am actually feeling a little more “third person” about myself than previously, in my ditsy interpretations of self elsewhere.
Some people tell me my writings are hard to read. Even when they’re typed out instead of being scrounged up and cursive and showing an undivided unity to confuse (and thus, to smoke through essays. it takes someone who has seen my writing to contemplate.) . I cannot restrict myself in that manner, because whenever I try to be more layman, I sound colloquial and gibberish and all that I end up talking about is enlarged pores on my cheeks and the dresses that don’t fit anymore because of my fried food expedition. And so, this pretty much is a site for my own ramblings, in the way that needs be to make myself feel like an over-confident, competent bitch in the terrains of the English language to subside my more detrimental notions of myself being fat, ugly and imbecile. Because under all that two-way cake, eyeliner, blusher and most imperatively, concealor, I really am crap. Or I look like one. Or like how you’re discerning all this content with an irritated sense of injustice. Because you’ve been tricked to read this meme when it really doesn’t mean anything. How great I am, I often think to myself, to be able to write on and on and make people think I am making sense with bombastic language when I actually am just typing off the membrane of my brain, wherever it is. I love it. You know. To make examiners mistake my lack of knowledge and thus, excessive elaborations to a meagre number of points to be deep and analytical when I really doubt I had anything else to write even if I prayed hard and fast and became celibate for it.
It feels nice here. And since I have so many blogs out there, one for The Love Of My Life (TLOML), one for my alterego, one for the bimbo in me, one that roleplays me as a bear holding a banana etc, etc that contributes to my eerie online presence, I might not have time for regularity here. If I come to a hiatus, that is very often because I am easily distracted or demotivated to switch on my lovely NEC, forgive me, and wait till the next time when I get lyrical like this. Ie. waffle. jargon. manipulative lack of substance.
I love myself.
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