hodgepodge for a hedgehog

Haven't you heard the news? I'm trying to qualify for a world-wide contest for Bloggers. It's called the Post-Silly-Stuff-In-7-Minute-Intervals-Even-If-You-Say-You-Feel-Like-Shit contest. What, you haven't heard of it? I hear it's very rewarding. The person who contacted me (aka Mr Jesus) said that if you win, you'll be able to get a lifetime supply of tissue and a date with destiny. Well I've always wanted to meet destiny. Don't you? Haven't you a curious bone in your body, son? What are you, a hermit? A Jack O Lantern? A Blogger who wants to escape the drudgeries of life, who has realized all the atrocities that all this transcience has in store for hapless human beings everywhere, therefore, doesn't want to have anything to do with it and turns to posting silly observations online which no one else will even bother reading? If you are any of the above, you have to come out of your shell and venture further into the world of Debauchery and Utter Nonsense!

Let's join the stupid contest, already! Who knows, you might win. If you do, tell me if destiny's a complete knock out or what, hmkay? But I don't think you would. Win, I mean. As you can see, I'm a couple minutes ahead of you and I don't see myself stopping. I'll only stop until someone thinks up a cure for the common cold! So someone needs to think things through really fast or else I'll have the blog world filled with so much shit, all of you won't be able to see straight.

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Newsflash: I like being long-winded. I don't see anything wrong with it. So what if I repeated the statement that I've repeated that you know I'll keep on repeating 'til the day of holy judgment? So what if I tell you, in excruciating detail, about my dog's week-long activities? There are things that have to be there, that just have to be said, and more importantly, that I want to be said. If you were paying me to write about myself, then definitely you'd have a say in how you want things to go. But you aren't shelling out anything to read this piece of blogheaven, right? Maybe you just happened to check this blog out and thought it high time that someone did a bit of criticizing 'round these parts. Have I got news for you: I don't need you to pull any stops. I don't want you here.

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I was reading my former blog and I've realized how so many things have changed. Nowadays, I take less control of what I write about. I think I've entered a phase that is pushing me to talk only about things that are real to me. This is cleansing season, a time for shedding old clothes. I hope these new ones would fit just as well.

There are days when I get bored with this "embracing reality" project. Sometimes, I feel sorely tempted to go back to my unseeing poems, my faulty definitions of love. During those days, I remind myself that I am not any less if I talk about things that truly concern me. I am not any less if I fling myself out in the open, arms outstretched to a world that can care less about my life. I am not any less if I say this is what I want and this is what I'll do. I am not any less but am not anything that's more, that's larger, either. I have to learn to be okay with that.

In moments when my ego rears its ugly head, I tell myself about what I've recently discovered: that what sustains me is my knowledge of who I am, which is composed of all my personal thoughts and feelings, my interaction with people who matter/ don't matter to me and my going through actual circumstances that belong to my life, not anyone else's. What I'm doing is learning how to be happy and content about that fact. Until I get re-acquainted with who I started out to be as a writer, I won't be able to push through with what I originally set out to do.

I got lost in the rain. I've heard that it happens, sometimes. Someone once told me that it's okay if it does. I used to doubt what he said but I believe him now.