Disappointment

I suck. When I started this blog, I had all sorts of Big Ideas. I didn't want it to be a "typical" blog, wherein I document my uninteresting life. You know, shit like "Today I woke up late. My boss was pissed off. I'm going out drinking tonight. I sure hope that rash clears up soon...etc."

No. I had Big Ideas. I would post about topics like:

"There's No Shame In Pizza Delivery."

"Why Tattoos and Piercings Are For Suckers."

"I Deserve Fame."

"Sobriety Vs. FUN."

"The Time I Shot A Squirrel."

"Why I Will (probably) Always Be Single."

"Tom Waits-Mandatory Worship."

"Chicks Who Dig Anal Are No Big Deal."

Shit like that. The problem is, the only time I feel inspired to write is when I can't actually do so. When I'm at work, or out at a bar, or on the verge of sleep, these are the times my mind opens up, and Big Ideas spill forth. Not just subjects like above, but actual content to go along with them.

The obvious solution would be to keep a journal in which I could jot down ideas no matter where I happen to be when the pop into my head. Fuck that shit. Journals have always pissed me off. I don't know why. It just seems pretentious (to me) to whip out a journal at random and start writing.

Have you ever actually read someone's journal? Not a blog, or anything else written for public consumption, but an actual, "private" journal? Holy shit, it's awful.

Years ago, I was dating a chick who not only told me she kept a "very private" journal, in which she had detailed her previous "sexploits," she actually showed it to me (unopened), and then left it on her nightstand! Needless to say, the next morning after she had left for work, I read it.

I wasn't trying to pry into her personal business, or her past, I just wanted to know how she really felt about me, since we had only been dating for a short time. I was curious to see if she liked me as much as I liked her. Plus, c'mon, it's human nature to snoop. Don't tell me any of you wouldn't have done the same damn thing. Bastards.

Anyway, I read a bit and found out she had been hooking up with another guy at the same time we were together. Worse still, she liked him better! The only reason she ended up with me was because the other guy had blown her off. I was Plan B!

Things went downhill from there, and the seeds of my hatred for journals were planted.

Just recently, I had been dating a chick for a few months, and I saw her journal. I was looking around for one of my CDs I had left at her place, and there it was. Once again, I couldn't help myself. While she hadn't been cheating on me, it turns out she was going through an "emotional crisis." Something to the effect of "I need to stop caring about anyone except myself. Whether or not my partner climaxes (she didn't even identify me by my name, how hurtful), just if I do. I need to pull away from everyone, etc." I'm paraphrasing, since I didn't commit it to memory. A week or so later, we broke up (surprise!). I broke up with her, but it was only after she pulled some serious bullshit, forcing my hand. She pretty much admitted to me afterward that she wanted out, but didn't have the guts to pull the trigger on our relationship. Tres immature.

So, I hate journals. I think I may actually hate blogs, as well. At the very least, I'm disappointed in myself for slacking off on this blog. Every time I sit down to post, I go blank. I can't imagine it's because I feel pressured to make every post important, entertaining, or whatever, since I sincerely doubt anyone actually reads this shit. Is anyone reading this shit? If so, why?

I need to rethink my "blog strategy." Not that I actually ever had one. Stay tuned (he said to no one)...