Sunday, March 5, 2017

And in the end...

"this is for everyone's enjoyment."

In 2007, I was 18 years old.

I wrote in mostly lowercase because I had taken to James Frey and E.E. Cummings.

I was concerned with cool. I was concerned that I would write something cool. I was certain that my definition of cool was the definition upon which history would compare other things as cool.

I was 18. I wrote in vulgarities, and exposed myself to the world. I didn't care what anyone thought. Yet I promised not to expose my emotions--I rebelled against teenage angst.

I cared what everyone thought. I still do. My writing would confidently assert an opinion and then quickly back away from it.

On Sunday, September 23, 2007 I was a supremely lonely individual. I had just begun my adult life across the country. I had just begun college. I had no friends at college yet. I had only vague faces and strained conversations; half-remembered names.

I wrote because I had written before. I wanted to move away from MySpace, a rapidly deteriorating medium, and find a larger audience. I had dreams of revealing the mind of a teenager, of being brutally honest and incisive.

I still do.

“Hey Nick it's Ana”
“Hi, what's up?”
“I am not going to be home because I am with my son.”
“oh, ok”
“His wife is having a baby! I left your lunch on the counter.”
“I am going to the hospital with my son now, when will you be home”
“20 minutes, what about lunch?”
“I left it on the counter, but I won't be there, my daughter-in-law is having a baby. Do you understand?”
“No, I don't understand, do I have to buy my own lunch?”
“You don't understand, my son is having a baby! I won't be home for lunch.”

In 2009, I was 20 years old. I had just begun my semester abroad in Alcala de Henares. I still wrote in a grammatically half-baked way. I cannot emphasize enough that this was intentional. I was 20. I still wrote without a filter.

I had become more honest though. In two years, I had found friends at college, found myself happy abroad, and embraced my introversion. I believed I knew everything. I still kind of do.

I had found friends abroad, and some would become my closest friends. I thought I was fluent in Spanish. I kind of became fluent, but I've lost most of it now.

I wrote as much as I could during that semester, attempting to hold onto a feeling. In Spain, I was in love. I can feel the sun on my skin still. The hot sidewalks and a sweeping breeze running through the ancient city that was Cervantes' birthplace.

"I want to feel valuable and not like an impostor. Also, I want to write blogs and not diary entries. I guess I didn't do so hot at this one.

Ciera got cast in Spring Awakening (the play not the musical). The car has been deemed totaled (we're driving a rented Dodge Avenger now—huge blind spot, and totally for men having midlife crises). Liam bailed (he's going back to Vermont because he had an epiphany, and I hope that works for him). And we saw Take Me America—musical about gaining asylum in this country.
I used to wish I could just have a breakdown. Odd how I don't wish that now despite the difficulties."

In 2011, I was 22 years old. I posted something every day. I wrote at least 365 words per entry or I posted a picture (worth 1000). I had graduated college, spent the summer with my dying grandmother, and moved across the country to start a life with my girlfriend Ciera.

My first job was not going well, we had just gotten in a car wreck, and Ciera and I were frantically searching for a place to live. We were living in a family friend's basement pursuing things that we thought would be our careers. Ciera thought she would be an actress; I thought I would be a professional mediator.

I missed my friends, I missed my family. I didn't know what being an actual adult meant.

In 2012, I tried to write everyday again. My heart wasn't in it. In 2013, I posted a mere 81 times. By 2014, I barely posted 5.

This blog was supposed to be an experiment, a living breathing diary. I had resolved to be as public as possible. I wanted to see myself grow and change.

I have seen that. And I have changed. I no longer wish to show myself to the world in that same way. I no longer wish to share with everyone every detail of my life.

I am no longer lonely.

I still track my life. In 2016, I left Seattle, moved to New York, changed jobs, and got married. I still keep a tab on the many activities that happen in my world. But now they are private.

For public eyes only. I meant it. I meant to be open; to detail my life completely and honestly. I no longer need to. Continuing this blog with my current attitudes would be disingenuous to my younger self. I would not be respecting the spirit of that 18 year old vulgarian who spoke as 18 year-olds do and did not flinch from being offensive.

This post is my last post of substance on this blog.

You can find me now at THEDATAISM.WORDPRESS.COM