Sometimes when I’m suffering from an ailment that causes pretty constant and consistent suffering, I get envious of the people around me that aren’t in the same agony I am. For instance, when I’ve got a condition, let’s say explosive diarrhea, I look around and think to myself, “These people are so lucky, they don’t know what it’s like to have to forcibly and constantly clench their sphincters. Look at them walking around so carefree.” Then in a fit of sudden appreciation, I vow to never take it for granted any more: the ability to eat solid food, the ability to jump up and down, the ability to have a relaxed sphincter. But three days later, I’ve forgotten the constant pain and agony, something else has wrought my frustration and wrath, and you know what, I take those simple pleasures for granted again.
I’m going through the same thing now that I’m on crutches. I look at all the people around me putting one foot in front of the other as if it weren’t no thang. And I am envious. Don’t they realize how lucky they are just to able to step into a shower? I have to freaking crawl into a shower. Ungrateful bastards. But I know in a couple of months, when I can hop, skip and jump to my heart’s every whim, I won’t be thinking about how lucky I am, I’ll be cursing the poor son of a bitch whose gum I happened to step in.
I had no electricity for a little over an hour last night.
I was sitting on the toilet when i heard the telltale *bwwoooop* of the lights going out. Thank god that I had just, in that moment, finished wiping or I’d have a hell of a time telling if my butt was clean or not. But enough about my sweet, sweet cheeks.
Now I had to figure out what to do with myself without the internet and without a computer. Sure, I could write, but writing by flashlight is soooo 1990s. I mass-texted a bunch of people and called up a friend instead. It turns out that phone call was mutually beneficial for both of us. For H, I guess it was somewhat therapeutic, for me, it gave me some laughs and helped pass the time in the dark. I guess C had a point, sometimes it is better just calling somebody up.
After writing yesterday’s post, I went through a bunch of my old xanga posts and got nostalgic for the good old days. You know, I was a popular blogger back in the day. It’s true. But what really got to me is how many regular commenters I had that I don’t talk to anymore. I’m going to try to reconnect with some of them, but to those that have been lost in the wind, I have nothing but regret for having let those relationships fade away.
Marion Liou (I think that’s your last name), I know you’re probably out there married and successful, but just in case you like to google your name from time to time, and happen to stumble on to this page, drop me a line. You were a cool chick to hang out with and I miss talking to you.
In other news, I have forgotten how to use commas properly.
I used to have a rep. I used to be somebody. I was that dude.
I was that dude that got 60 eprops per xanga post. I was that guy who people would ask, “Are you aznsaint?” I shit you not, people actually knew me by my xanga username before they met me. I was famous. I used to have a rep.
I used to be a writer. I used to be free with my ideas and my words. I’d write about anything and everything. People actually commented on my writing; they told me they loved it and couldn’t wait for more. I’m not really sure what happened along the way, but I have a hypothesis.
I used to be a very shy guy. I’d keep most of my feelings bottled up and wouldn’t talk much. Back then, I used my writing to express what I thought and how I felt since I found it hard to do so otherwise. I remember this one time, I met a friend of a friend, an avid fan of my xanga. He told my friend he couldn’t wait to meet that witty cat who wrote under aznsaint. After that meeting, he told my friend he was kind of disappointed: I wasn’t as funny as I was on my page, in fact, I didn’t really say much at all.
Nowadays, you’d find it hard to get me to shut up. And that’s why I think I don’t write as much anymore–because I’ve found another outlet for my thoughts and feelings. However, now I feel like I’m taking the easy way out. Because as much as I found it easier to write instead of talk, I didn’t just do it because it was my only avenue. I liked being able to put words to a page–I liked the feeling of sitting back and reading through a completed piece.
Now, I’m not going to make any more promises, because every promise I made about writing regularly has gone to shit. But I’m going to try. God so help me, I’m going to try writing again.
Wordpress 2.5 came out this week. What does this mean to you? Probably nothing. But it got me thinking about this blog again. So I upgraded it. I must say, it’s pretty freaking awesome. Maybe even awesome enough to get me writing again. Maybe.
But anyway, I changed the theme too.
