Fang Talks

Truly ours is the dankest timeline.

Today marks another year round for this blog. I am so, so sorry.

It’s funny, I was actually feeling in the mood to write about the low bar of content that makes it on here again. You know, stir it up, bring back an old favorite. Then I remembered that hey, it’s the twenty-first right? That means we have a continued existence to mourn! Don’t you think that aligns nicely with the thing I wanted to do originally?

I honestly don’t know what to do with this garbage dump. I want to write more seriously for it. Or at least I say I do. Whenever I do have the time for it I just don’t… But it’s difficult to see positives to giving up a habit, a streak I’ve maintained for so long. I know I’d feel bad for tossing something like this aside just like that. But would I also feel relieved of a burden ai had never noticed?

Seven years. Seven whole fucking years. I’m not even going to pull up the stats again this year, they’ll just be even more depressing than they were two years ago. With all this, what has been accomplished? Whose lives have I enriched? What gems have I buried?

That’s too dramatic. But I also can’t keep going on saying I just write for myself, and that any readers I pick up along the way are happy little accidents. Because maybe, just maybe, I actually care about having an audience. Maybe, I want people to read my words because they are better than other people’s. Not because they know me, not because they liked some thing I wrote years ago, not out of pity, or the kind of curiosity that draws people to really gruesome traffic accidents.
…Maybe I want this blog to never have taken the shape that it did.

I’d never admit to that, of course.

Sunday was not a good day for this, I guess. Luck of the draw.
~ Fang


  • 22/01/2018 (2:14 AM)

    The good and the bad of it is that blog posts are sort of disposable and fleeting. Few people go back and read older stuff. That’s good if you don’t want to live with the bad stuff, but bad if stuff you’re proud of is behind you.

    It’s pushing the same rock up the same hill every time.

    Which I for one am going to keep doing.

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