Living On The Edge

I guess I’ve run out of people to stalk on Facebook which lead me back to Blogger. I don’t blog there anymore but what’s wrong in stalking the discarded blogs of other people. The Blogger Crowd of 2010.

I joined Blogger in October of 2010, went private immediately because His Highness had a small penis [close people will get the reference]. Started out again with a secret blog and an unknown me, made lots of friends, connected on Facebook, was invited to meetups and got a place to write down about my frustration with myself and the world.

Then studies and life happened. Everybody moved on, some made theirs private while others just left discarded shells which I go through every now and then; letting the nostalgia hit me with full force.

Blogger is where I grew up; so it’s hard to let go of it. I was thinking about the cliche ke, books let you travel through time but internet alone has so much history. It puts me in somber mood. What happens when these puberty ridden, hormonal and nervous-wreck-BECAUSE-COLLEGE -ACCEPTANCES soft copies end up being deleted just like Orkut. That would be so shitty.

Someone needs to create a printed archive of all the mess over here. There is a mass of literature from the hipster folks that one needs to be exposed to.

I regret moving on to Tumblr. Yes, I could post more regularly and aggressively but that’s where I got this incoherent style of writing. Honorary mention to the heartbreak as well.

July 18th 2010.

That’s when Air Blue crashed, 152 people intended for Islamabad Airport, shot straight into the sky instead. And my weeping. Utter horror. Checking out headlines at 1am.

‘U r a gift frm God. Happi to hv u.’

So tired of your bullshit.

I feel like having a cigarette now. Except i don’t smoke. And i have sore throat. Let’s have caramel kulfi, shall we?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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