Chaos Personified
I'm doing a lot of personal things lately, well, I say personal considering I have work now and majority of what I do are work-related stuffs, stuffs. One day, it just came to me that I was letting myself forget what I did before - like this, blogging, endless downloading, messing around a little, doing non-sense - which seems unforgivable now that I think about it. That's what I did, right? That's me. How I just let those things escape me I have no idea.
But the point is, I am back in business.
Anyway, I might mess around some more by editing this page further, say, personalize the banner, make some more on the background, more research on blog customization, those kinds of things. I started doing it hours ago, and I see more of me now on this blog, which is good. I tried designing on Photoshop too but I got pissed about something in it and stopped. I'll get back on it other time.
I did some history on my self. Some stuffs I posted before that I have no memory now of posting. I've been blogging for some time, right? Since 2008, if I remember it correctly. So why I didn't even think of posting these here, I have no idea. Fortunately, I've posted them on Facebook. So here come:
I wrote this thinking of Lebron James. Who else?
Two or three magazines I bought only because of Rachel Anne Daquis. Nothing else.
non-sense.
Okay. This is crazy. But here's an addict so forgive me maybe?
(how about making RAD my project cover background?)
These photos were taken a couple of years back, some random things I did when I got bored and with nothing else to do and though I do remember taking them myself, there were photo poses in that album that are so not me in the "now" that I deleted them. Vanished. You won't find them here though.They're embarrassing. I guess, it's true that people change. How you look at things, how things looked okay to you before but not anymore. Or things you used to feel strongly about before but seem irrelevant now. Sometimes, I see someone with whom I shared a great memory with, then I try to remember those times only because now's just so different, I cling to the past because it was where the great times with that person were and now's just not the same anymore. It's really hard to explain and I don't know exactly but things really change. I'm not an exception.
Sometimes even, I read my own diary and I'm not sure if I want to laugh or cry whenever I find something that I wouldn't want my parents to read, ever. I'll let your imagine run wild on this. Well, they were written by me. They tend to be ridiculous.
It's knowing that you were that person, and you forget because you do different things now, think different thoughts, write different words and if it weren't for that piece of yourself - like a diary - you wouldn't have remembered, that makes you want to smile when no one else is around, or cry a private cry. It was you and you don't remember. It's kind of sad or maybe cute that didn't seem cute before. But that maybe is what life is. It's chaos personified.
I always think about filtering my thoughts when I start to write because I worry about people reading but then that doesn't happen when I write, the filtering. Words just come out and it would be a crime to stop them, right? That's better that none coming out at all. And then, who cares, right? No one really. So why worry about thing that might not happen. But I really need to filter my thoughts.
My writings from five years ago, I'm laughing at now. Or deleting. How much worse and harder can my laughter get - and maybe my editorial skills - when fifty years have passed and I read what I'm writing now, do you think?
P.S.
Wiwait!
J.G. is back with another one!
It's called "The Racketeer". Still reading it. I'll try to write review. Or whatever about it.
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