I crossposted this to my old Livejournal, because I felt like writing an entry there. But then I realized it’d be helpful to post it in both my old and new blogs, for anyone who cares.
I will say with all honesty that Livejournal has been completely phased out of my life for the past year and a half. I never check it, and most of the people I knew on it have since abandoned it for greener pastures, usually of the Facebook/Twitter/Google+ variety. I’m on all three and check them almost hourly.
When I placed a link to my new blog spot on WordPress, it was more for me to end a chapter of my internet life and start a new one. Plus Livejournal is a remnant of the past, a past that at times I’d love to forget because of stuff I’ve written about myself on there — relationship problems in high school, personal problems, posts that are embarrassing in retrospect — is less than stellar. It’s of a past that still haunts me to this day.
Starting this WordPress blog was me wanting to start anew, to forget the past. Writing stuff about TV shows, suggestions from my internet colleagues, and eventually writing about other stuff I like. Most of the short entries I wrote on LJ are almost perfect Twitter fodder these days. Everything else usually appears on the WP blog because the things I find are interesting enough to write about. I even started a new WordPress blog dedicated solely to goofy gaming stuff, because I felt there wasn’t a big field for such stuff.
The only thing I worry about is failure. Unfortunately, I keep thinking that I have failed. Failed as a writer, as a humorist, and more importantly, as a person. Let’s put it this way: In my father’s 55+ years he’s been on this planet, he went through many personal turmoils but eventually persevered as one of the most important contract estimators in shipyards in the Pacific Northwest for over 25 years. I turned 26 about two weeks ago and I’m still a High School graduate who’s never had a job. I even dropped out of community college. I partially blame it due to laziness but also because of reluctance.
I want to “feign independence” so to speak — have a job/career, a place of my own to live in, and a steady income — but I feel like I’m not quite “ready.” I have to second-guess everything because I’m convinced once I make a choice it cannot be taken back, and if it’s the “wrong choice” it leads to “failure.” It doesn’t help that there are times where I say something and it doesn’t come out right, leading to a humorous but unintended outcome that sticks with me too much. I hesitate because I want it to sound “right.” I don’t want to make a mistake.
This also applies to my writing. There are times where I’ve gone “What the fuck was I thinking writing this?”, subsequently rewriting almost everything I had written so that it sounded like I wasn’t a babbling retard mashing on a keyboard. Or outright not posting it anywhere. There’s times where I’ve written comments and then removed them instead of posting them, for fear of how the person may react. It’s because of misinterpretation. One time I pissed off a high school friend on LJ because I made a sarcastic comment about what to do with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day, trying to use an in-joke from a completely different community. Needless to say she didn’t like that very much. It’s stuff like that makes me go “No, no, can’t say that” and end up deleting stuff I say before I even consider posting it.
This is one of the things I don’t mention much on the internet outside of a handful of people I know and trust. The last times I mentioned stuff like this, I was called an “emo kid” and an “ungrateful cunt.” That’s why I never mention it on the blog, and barely mention it on Twitter or the other social media sites. There are times where it’s justified to act that way, but when I even slip up on simple things and get mocked for it, I can’t help but hide my head under a pillow. I’m one of those emotional people, you see.
Needless to say, my life has been less than satisfactory. And it’s my own damn fault. Not anyone else’s. I think I need to see a therapist.