I'm Bored...

Well... No, not really. It's more like not having anything to do that I resorted to do the most mundane of things which resulted in my doing things that I now regret. It's not really regret-regret. It more like regret-you-just-had-to-do-that-out-of-all-the-other-equally-boring-yet-are-the-only-
things-you-can-do kind of regret. Well, you see what I did was that I started to read blogs of other people.

You might be saying, "Uhm... What's so bad about reading other people's blog?" Well, I had the misfortune to read the blogs of successful people. Well, successful in blogging anyway. I stumbled (rather intentionally yet unknowingly) into the blogs of people that are famous and have a lot of traffic. They're good. Real good. They talk about anything and they seem to know a lot about it or they can talk about it in a way that you think they know something of whatever they are talking about (You may have noticed that I am using these rather long sentences that should have a lot of commas a lot and should be broken into several smaller sentences but which aren't. Well, that's how I normally talk and I type the way I talk. If you don't like it, well... try to live with it). They also have a very wide range of topics they can talk about. Topics like cars, eyebrows (whut?), guitars, pets , etc... Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them. I'm thrilled. Really. Right.

The problem is more on how unhappy I am now of my own blog. You see, my blog can be summed up in two words: Pathetically Stupid. It contains nothing (which by the way, is the entire point of my blog). But c'mon. Other people have nothing in their blogs too. How come they have a better blog than mine? How can their nothing be better than my nothing? T_T Anyway, that's why I regret reading other people's blogs. I feel ashamed for mine. It's pathetic. It's stupid.

Well, in my defense (Yes, I do realize that I am the one persecuting myself. Just let me be.), I am not a born blogger. If you've read my second article (which I know you didn't but I don't care (read it)... Really, I don't care (please read it).) you'd know what I mean. I am one of the "converts" (Well, forced is more like it). To tell you the truth, I was one of the biggest skeptics of blogging. When it first came out (about the same time my friends started to bug me to make one), I thought, "Why the hell would I want to post my days event for everyone to read?" I mean, what for? I barely remember what I did (primarily because I didn't care), so I can't exactly tell others about it. Also, if I didn't care about my day, why would anyone else? So, for the longest time I would dismiss any discussions about blogging and my friends quickly learned not to talk about it in front of me. But time passed and as we all know, time...uhm...time...uh...does something... I think. Anyway, discussions about blogging were everywhere: newspapers, net (duh!), library, net cafes (duh! again). So I could not avoid but be forced to overhear some of the new things about blogging. I liked what I heard though. People earning from their blogs. People becoming celebrities for their blogs. Wow (Money, evidently, piques my interests in the stuff that involves it). As far as I have researched in ways for global domination (I read a couple of comic books), money and fame are the two things that always come with power and guess what? I am easily seduced by power. Anyway, long story short (You: You mean you had a short version and I could have skipped all that bullshit...ahem...bovine manure up there? Me: Yes.) I was convinced to start a blog by forces (money, power, greed, fame, insatiable appetite for better things) far stronger than my powers (nil, nada, nothing, zero) can take. So here I am.

Only later did I realize, though, that I have absolutely no talent or skill or even the smallest drop of creative juice for blogging. I was stuck with something between an awkward journal of a sickly preteen boy and a potential source of blackmail information (that is, blackmail against me). I tried spicing it up with poems and my tragic skill for ambigrams but to no avail. Really, I am a somewhat proud owner of a sad and derisory blog, as proud as a human father is to have cockroaches for children can be.

So you see, my page has no visitors, only poor souls who had the misfortune to stumble (click accidentally) into my page. It is not the least bit interesting or informative. I am a sad, sad little man. I am to the point of deleting this account, but since I have nothing else better to do (and I don't know how), I think I'll keep this up and running (more like crawling...no...squirming). *Sigh*