Yes yes yes, I know. I did a miserable job at updating my blog. Maybe my life wasn’t interesting enough. Or that’s what you think.
But here’s the thing.
I always wanted to make my blog a story (yes, sadly enough), and give this flow (read: chronology) to the events. So everytime I would have this really interesting idea, I would be like, “I need to write about that first, before I write about this.” Or, I would just find writing a waste of time (“I better get that grade than write on my blog”). And it would go on.
I’m tired of Facebook.
What a random thing to say.
But yes.
I’m tired of my phone, of social networks, of deleting junk mail.
I’m tired of scrolling through page posts and unfunny videos. (Duuuuude, those effing click-baits)
I’m tired of the buggy Facebook browser.
I’m tired of cuddling inside my blanket and stare at my phone till my brain stops responding and I drop dead.
But it’s impossible.
Sometimes I end up on Facebook when I pick up my phone to set an alarm. Because muscle memory.
But then, this is what happens.
It’s some kind of an escapist, uncontrolled tendency that we just can’t avoid.
Well yes, I do have better things to do. But I would, most likely, still reach for that one connection to the world I left behind (what a hyperbolic unnecessary buttload of emotion that I just couldn't not put in). Also, it’s the most updated feed for news and cricket scores (if only there were less posts about/leveraging feminism and some sort of country shaming).
Boredom levels would get excruciatingly high: (
Yes, I'm texting my Indian number.
Nevertheless.
So back to where I started from. I just can’t make promises about how regularly I’ll be updating this blog. The transition has been interesting and I can’t wait to talk about it. And so I will.
This post is for my readers for coming back expecting to see more posts only to get disappointed. This is for everyone who thinks I have a story in me, waiting to be told.
Till I write again, here’s a random post about depression which pretty much got me into illustrative blogging.
Cheers and a small bit of xoxo (What's this?)
But here’s the thing.
I always wanted to make my blog a story (yes, sadly enough), and give this flow (read: chronology) to the events. So everytime I would have this really interesting idea, I would be like, “I need to write about that first, before I write about this.” Or, I would just find writing a waste of time (“I better get that grade than write on my blog”). And it would go on.
I’m tired of Facebook.
What a random thing to say.
But yes.
I’m tired of my phone, of social networks, of deleting junk mail.
I’m tired of scrolling through page posts and unfunny videos. (Duuuuude, those effing click-baits)
I’m tired of the buggy Facebook browser.
I’m tired of cuddling inside my blanket and stare at my phone till my brain stops responding and I drop dead.
But it’s impossible.
Sometimes I end up on Facebook when I pick up my phone to set an alarm. Because muscle memory.
But then, this is what happens.
It’s some kind of an escapist, uncontrolled tendency that we just can’t avoid.
Well yes, I do have better things to do. But I would, most likely, still reach for that one connection to the world I left behind (what a hyperbolic unnecessary buttload of emotion that I just couldn't not put in). Also, it’s the most updated feed for news and cricket scores (if only there were less posts about/leveraging feminism and some sort of country shaming).
Boredom levels would get excruciatingly high: (
Yes, I'm texting my Indian number.
Nevertheless.
So back to where I started from. I just can’t make promises about how regularly I’ll be updating this blog. The transition has been interesting and I can’t wait to talk about it. And so I will.
This post is for my readers for coming back expecting to see more posts only to get disappointed. This is for everyone who thinks I have a story in me, waiting to be told.
Till I write again, here’s a random post about depression which pretty much got me into illustrative blogging.
Cheers and a small bit of xoxo (What's this?)
Or whatever.
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