Mood: pissy and pouty
I’m rather pissed with myself, for recently revealing my blog address to somebody that I shouldn’t have. Now I can’t blog about that person, no matter how much I’m tempted to, coz it might be too easy to spot. Why would I want to blog about this person? Well, because said individual is royally pissing me off, and unfortunately, I still don’t possess that in-your-face quality that requires equal parts of bitchiness and democracy.
It’s ironic though.
I treat my blog as an online diary, a rather public one unfortunately, where I will still make my feelings and thoughts known. As I’m a rather forgetful person, my posts tend to verge more on the more obvious side of things (stopping short of naming names, at least), where most people in that social circle would immediately know who/what I’m talking about. I mean, I can’t post something so subtle, that 2 months later, I myself forget what the heck I was pissed about, right? (it’s happened before, I swear)
Of course, it’s nice to have your blog visited and read, which is why I’m getting bored staying at this address. I used to have more visitors at my other blog address, most of whom stopped visiting coz they mostly didn’t know where I moved to.
The irony was, I moved because I was sick of having my posts scrutinized misunderstood. The thing about friends is that, they might read something on your blog and get offended by it. But instead of leaving a comment (which is what the purpose of blogging is all about, getting commented, DOH), they’d rather let it fester. (So far in my blogging history, only 1 or 2 friends have actually discussed my offensive posts face-to-face with me, yay you gals!) And we all know what festering does. It turns into a boil. And we all know what boils do. They grow and then one day they explode, leaving everybody covered in yellow-green, sticky smelly pus.
The problem is, people should know that when and if they read somebody else’s ‘diary’, they’re bound to hear/see/read something bad about themselves. Hollywood has taught us a lot about this. Just look at Harriet The Spy…err, bad example, just watch Mean Girls.
And yet, the sad irony of the fact is, I’m getting sick of not being scrutinized either. I mean, well, there are people coming by, my statcounter says so, but I have no idea who they are, because they never say or do anything. My blog feels more like some inter-stellar hotel lobby or train/bus interchange, where people pass by becuase they have to pass this way in order to get to their intended destination.
Question: is my blog really that uncommentable??
I’d intended to stay here till the end of the year, but I think that person who’s pissing me off eight now might just drive me out of here by my 1/2-year anniversary here.