Look up. Up there under my giant Prada sunglassed face. See what it says? It says that this blog is updated when I feel like it. Well I feel like it now. I’ve felt like it before, but somehow the last time I got around to doing it was April 5th 2008 and even that was just a lame ploy to attract visitors. It worked. Kind of. But then I gave up. I’ve said it many times before: I’m not the type to be consistent with things like this. I refuse to spend time looking for actual content and so if I don’t have anything to write about, I just don’t write. Here’s the thing: when life is exciting and I do have things to write about, I don’t have the time to write about them. Point is, don’t expect anything from me. Don’t expect me to write anything interesting, and most importantly, don’t even begin to expect me to be consistent.
If you’re sitting and giggling about how lame it is that I’m apologizing, you are very well justified. I am well aware that there is no more than one person reading this at any given moment in time, or in any given month for that matter. I write like this so that when I can look back on my life’s accomplishments I can fool myself into thinking that I had actual followers. Don’t smirk. You know you do it too. We all do it. We are all guilty of distorting the past. You drive by your elementary school and picture yourself walking out. You smile at the pleasant memory of a simpler time. What you don’t remember is how much you cried going in. You don’t remember how stressed out you were that you failed your spelling test and your parents were going to yell at you. You don’t remember these things because it serves no purpose to remember them. Warm pleasant events always get in the way of reality. We all have a pink filter in our brains which blocks out the things we don’t need to remember and pushed forward the things we do. This isn’t just true for childhood. Talk to anyone about the 90s. Most people will tell you it was an amazing time and they miss the decade. Really? Do you? Was it not just like any other time? Were there not genocides, terrorist attacks, a missile crisis? Was your family not just a bunch of dirt poor immigrants struggling to make their way in a backwards country where the only streets that are paved with gold are the ones lining the sidewalks of the very people that were exploiting you? Here’s the thing: nobody needs to hear that. Nobody wants to reminisce about how they shared a bathroom with 6 people or how they spent their first month in America living on their uncle’s couch. Nobody wants to hear these things unless they just a quick introduction to a story that ends with success and caviar. My point is this: stop looking for a point. Live your damn life, take in as much of it as you can, and do what you feel is right. In the end, when you’re sitting on a couch feeling the warm tea slip between your false teeth, you will always pick out the pleasantries of life and all the drama you have in your life right now will have magically seeped away. You know this is true. You’ve even thought about this very fact yourself at one point in time. Sometimes there just needs to be someone to remind you. Of course I’ve chosen this role upon myself.
Wait, this isn't what the blog was supposed to be about. What the fuck just happened? So much for being entertaining.
Come to think of it, I have no idea what I was going to write about when I started today but, at this point, any words I get down are better then what I’ve been doing the past six months.
So now, after a long hiatus, I am back and once again ready to break the rules of grammar, invent words, offend people, and most importantly, entertain Esther.
Yes, I’m not naive. I am well aware you are the only one that reads this Estya. Enjoy.
Fuck it. Fuck it all. Just live your life. The alternative isn't all that more exciting.
Sweet dreams kids.
