It’s been some time since I’ve written anything. It’s been even longer since I’ve posted on this page.
I started this blog nearly 3 years ago–the summer of 2019 if memory serves correctly.
There are a number of ways I could carry out writing this post–I could reflect on how much has changed in these past few years, I could discuss my disdain for capitalism and the 40 hour work week, or I could go on some quasi-philosophical tangent about something to do with happiness or love or some bullshit of that nature. But I don’t know how I’m going to write this post. So let’s see where it takes us.
What have I been up to since my last post… Not all that much to be honest. It’s almost disappointing how little I’ve done. I started grad school, dropped out of grad school, started seeing a therapist (again), lost some friends, made some friends, lost some other friends, lost weight, gained weight… I got a white board tho! I feel like most people with at least a slight penchant for writing has to start a blog at least once. I remember a person from class trying to start a wellness blog once and then giving up after a while. Who am I to talk tho. This is my… 3rd(?) attempt at a blog. The only difference is that I keep beating a dead horse and posting after every couple months.
I will give myself credit though–I have stuck to my initial mission with this blog in that there absolutely is NOT a theme or any overarching connection between my posts other than that I wrote them! My tone’s changed, the subject matter’s shifted, even my style of writing. Ain’t life grand? All about change. The only constant, or so they say.
Gosh/god/gawd. Nostalgia is derived from the Greek terms “nostos” and “algos,” which roughly translate to “return home,” and “pain.” So nostalgia can be taken as roughly meaning “homesick” or “the pain of yearning to return home.” I feel that. I don’t know exactly what, where, or when home is for me, but I do know I yearn to be there.
Throughout my life, my feeling of being has never changed. Not in the sense that I expected it to, at least. People talking about how high school was such a huge change from middle school, and university from high school, etc. I was always underwhelmed by how the change was mostly superficial. Nothing felt different, it just was different. So when they said that work was different than schooling and a huge change I kinda just expected more of the same–that life would change on a superficial level but it would largely feel the same. I was wrong.
When I was applying to grad school last summer, I drafted a 20 page piece to submit alongside my application. I put as much effort into it as I had put into nearly any other piece I’ve written throughout my tenure as an undergrad. It wasn’t my full effort, but it was a decent amount. It was the amount of effort that would’ve yielded a grade between a 90 and 100 depending on the teacher/professor. So, I was about ready to send it in when I had an old professor/friend of mine give it a quick look. He told me it was dog shit and that I shouldn’t even bother applying to grad school. Despite that, I ended up getting in to grad school. We don’t talk much anymore.
Do any of y’all… wait how do we spell that? Ya’ll? Y’all? Anyways, do any of y’all ever think about how fucked up the world is? Climate change, anti-vaxxers, and white supremacists–the only tag line worthy of summing up 2020 to present. Or do any of y’all think about how weird it is that I ask you questions like that when we both know I’m disabling comments to the post?
The reason I disable comments, honestly, is mostly because I don’t feel like dealing with the bullshit that comes along with the internet. I didn’t used to disable them, but then some hustle-culture finance bro tried convincing me to invest in my marketing for the site.
Okay that didn’t actually happen, but it felt like it. I think it was some dude telling me to stick to a single flower instead of pissing on the entire garden, but we all know that I have too full a bladder for that shit.
Was that my best metaphor? Idk, but it felt right.
I’ve been exposed to COVID 4 times from December 14th to January 14th. I’ve spent so many days holed up in my shithole of an apartment quarantining I may have actually gone insane. Meanwhile my partner’s parents are purposely not wearing masks and going out more now that they’ve tested positive. Gotta love that conservative spite. Really screams love for the nation when one actively tries to infect other people with a highly contagious virus. Almost as patriotic as storming the capitol, or brandishing the confederate flag.
Part of me hoped that writing this would elevate my mood slightly. And it has. Not to the extend I hoped, but to a noticeable extent. If you make down to this, then thanks for reading. I appreciate your time, and I hope you liked it. See you again in a few months ❤
The Verbose Vomiteer 