Before I start, it's Tim's birthday today. 26 and ticking.
Happy Birthday, darling!
Good thing I remember sometimes.
That, you know, I have a blog. To think it's accompanied me through, how many years now, 7 or 8? being my constant white slate to ponder on, vent out and analyse life as it unfolds for me...
Its purpose changed, of course...I learnt about the pros and cons of airing dirty linen in public, the consequences of uncensored thoughts to people around me and to have trolls and teenage-hormone-fueled cruel comments posted to me years and years ago.
Now I'm not even sure I have readers, and it doesn't matter in the slightest. Tim asked me the other day, why do people blog? If they don't intend it for an audience, why make it public at all? And why do we allow strangers to read our thoughts, the very same we hesitate to tell, or downright hide away from our loved ones.
I don't know. Personally, maybe in some ways it helped me censor my thoughts? That I have true, very un-PC or very biased/ignorant/unkind thoughts, but I learn to keep those quiet by posting only what I think is okay to say on here? It's no longer an arena for me to moan about my mom, or the tediousness of chores or the minute details of my day-to-day living, so what is it for me then?
It seems like all I do is to vent here. Why not in a diary then? Because...it's just easier to type and post, than to put (real) pen on (real) paper? Besides I don't have to lug a diary around with me. I just need access to a computer and the Internet. Or at worst, a pendrive. And as we all know, it's easier to find a cyber cafe these days than to find a stationary shop, yes?
Anyway, as I ramble on aimlessly, a beautiful rainbow appeared outside my window, underlining the beauty that appears alongside grey April showers, its semi-circle obvious and it felt like if I'd care to do so, I could walk to either of its end and find my pot of gold. And as I look up, now, it's already faded, reminding me how fleeting (or ephemeral or transient, whichever you prefer) beauty and really, life is.
And yes, the underlining point is, I no longer come here and confide regularly, willingly. So why do I keep it up? Is it for sentimental reasons? Or the once-in-a-blue-moon urge to blog, like right now? I don't know. Maybe its just for posterity reasons, voicing my soliloquy, aloud. Maybe I just want a form of memory so that I can look back 10, 20, 30 years down the road. Books can rot and disappear, but I don't see that happening to the Internet. Or maybe it's a false sense of security. Who knows?
But I think I should post things up more often. Even if its only a new haircut, or someone's birthday, or just a good/bad day.
And yes, some good news finally: Third time lucky, you'd call it, I interviewed for Towntalk UK for a 12-week internship, and guess who received the formal offer?
Real work for me at last. Time to do what I can do, and find a way into a permanent career path. I hope I won't cock it up to say the least, and that I'll do more than well.
I start tomorrow.
Oooh, am already nervous!