We made a death pact, and I have to accomplish my part of the deal. Please bury me next to my baby. Please bury me with my leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots. Goodbye. With love, Sid.
Hello bloggy world,
I haven’t posted a single thing for a fortnight, I am slowly starving bloggy to death while Boner tries her best to keep DnD alive with little bumps of visual stimulants. Curiously, the number of followers continues to rise, making me even more aware that I have been performing for an audience I couldn’t even see and definitely don’t know.
Why can’t I post anymore?
1> I am still a cunt. This weekend I ran into a boy I was seeing last year, nothing serious, and I pretended not to know him. I was embarrassed and like an ostrich instead of working through the awkward first hello I hid my head in the sand with no consideration for his feelings, or respect for him as a human being. I wish I could say it was out of character, but in fact it was the last in a long line of cuntish things I have done vis-a-vis men ever since I became able to. The only difference is it was the first time I felt bad about my actions, instead of turning them into a funny story.
What changed? Without realising it, I used to have zero self-esteem. A boy first told me he loved me when I was 6, I laughed and ran away. Throughout my teens and into my twenties I repeated this pattern, looking down on boys and girls who tried to love me because I couldn’t see what they saw in me. As a result I have been a real, utter, cunt to friends and lovers. This was hammered home to me last weekend, as was the realisation that I need to make amends or at least make more of an effort to nurture my ‘real world’ relationships, and that means cutting off (or cutting down) the virtual ones.
2> It was around the time that my smiling blonde angel took her own life. I was hiding out at a yoga place far, far away from the town centre where one day, during class, I broke a pose to scratch an itch. A bald, half-naked man to my left said “You only have so much energy, choose what you use to spend it on”. Everytime I tumblr, I am using energy that could be directed towards something else, everytime I get angry, I could be using that energy to clean the kitchen, everytime I waste my time in a passive, unmoving, lumpen state on the sofa I am chipping away at the inner force that sustains me and that, like oil reserves, is slowly being used up with no hope of replenishment.
3> Deep and dirty had a purpose: to bring Boner and I together. It did this fabulously. It even set the scene for our first (and last) breaking up, we came out the other side two peas in a stronger pod. But now that we are firm and everlasting friends, what is the point of bloggy? To please people I don’t even know when, as I said, I am a cunt and therefore need to use my energy pleasing the people i DO know?
4> I have thought about how Deep and Dirty could be ‘made over’ a la Gok Wan (ps: LOVE the Gok): We could interview people, asking them deep and dirty questions. We could become an advice page. We could make the blog private and just start writing for each other again. We could call it a day and close up shop. We could find someone else to blog for, a real company or organisation. Or maybe we will just slowly, gradually fizzle out, since this is real life and unlike in the movies that is how things end…
"Everybody knows that the war is over, everybody knows that the good guys lost."
this one goes out to you baby. i miss you x
“wherever we are in this world, the moon will never be bigger than the size of your thumb.” -Dear John