Tumblr's atmosphere is wigging me out a bit. Instead of sitting around grinching about the inherent terrible-ness of Tumblr like most others, I'm dusting this off and keeping an eye out for alternative means to communicate.
I don't have much to say though. It's a problem. I have several alternatives to social networks that piss me off (my irritation at Tumblr isn't even an iota of my irritation at Twitter)--snail mail, IM, Skype. I see people I should throw a message at quite often. I just don't have anything to say! "I'm still muddling along," over and over? The very thought is off-putting.
When I do have something to share, the feedback I get is... less than overwhelming. I feel like I'm grasping for attention like back when I was a miserable off-kilter teenager, when I put it like that. I accept that a lot of is nothing to do with other people being inherently terrible; rather, it's the way I deal with things being a lot different to the way other people deal with things. But part of accepting that means I'm avoiding sites where I know, from experience, that I'd achieve nothing but a sensation of being slighted, overwhelming irritation, or both.
I hope all this avoidance doesn't mean I miss out on something super-important or useful to me, but my patience and my subconscious are thanking me for it.
I've been thinking a lot of deep, weird thoughts lately. I'm in a good mood but some of the thoughts I'm mulling over concern me. One of the stories I'm kicking around deals with a person being in a situation I found myself in, and I can't stop thinking, "This is such a fucking self-insertion my-life-is-pain pity party, who is going to have the patience for this?" But you know, as melodramatic as it is, it literally happened to me. Real life can be stupid and melodramatic!
Um, what else... Last night I had a dream about being in my old high school (not the one I usually have nightmares about, the one before that). The place was teeming with students at ten o'clock at night. I walked towards where my old home block of classrooms used to be, munching on a hot dog (red frankfurt sausage, tomato sauce, no mustard or onion). I rounded the corner to see a huge glass enclosure where giant, uncanny four-legged hot dog bun beasts lumbered back and forth. One of them turned its massive head towards me to stare me down with the pink steamed meat where its head presumably had been. I looked down at my hot dog, also missing its tip, then turned and ran like the dickens.
So no change there then.
I don't have much to say though. It's a problem. I have several alternatives to social networks that piss me off (my irritation at Tumblr isn't even an iota of my irritation at Twitter)--snail mail, IM, Skype. I see people I should throw a message at quite often. I just don't have anything to say! "I'm still muddling along," over and over? The very thought is off-putting.
When I do have something to share, the feedback I get is... less than overwhelming. I feel like I'm grasping for attention like back when I was a miserable off-kilter teenager, when I put it like that. I accept that a lot of is nothing to do with other people being inherently terrible; rather, it's the way I deal with things being a lot different to the way other people deal with things. But part of accepting that means I'm avoiding sites where I know, from experience, that I'd achieve nothing but a sensation of being slighted, overwhelming irritation, or both.
I hope all this avoidance doesn't mean I miss out on something super-important or useful to me, but my patience and my subconscious are thanking me for it.
I've been thinking a lot of deep, weird thoughts lately. I'm in a good mood but some of the thoughts I'm mulling over concern me. One of the stories I'm kicking around deals with a person being in a situation I found myself in, and I can't stop thinking, "This is such a fucking self-insertion my-life-is-pain pity party, who is going to have the patience for this?" But you know, as melodramatic as it is, it literally happened to me. Real life can be stupid and melodramatic!
Um, what else... Last night I had a dream about being in my old high school (not the one I usually have nightmares about, the one before that). The place was teeming with students at ten o'clock at night. I walked towards where my old home block of classrooms used to be, munching on a hot dog (red frankfurt sausage, tomato sauce, no mustard or onion). I rounded the corner to see a huge glass enclosure where giant, uncanny four-legged hot dog bun beasts lumbered back and forth. One of them turned its massive head towards me to stare me down with the pink steamed meat where its head presumably had been. I looked down at my hot dog, also missing its tip, then turned and ran like the dickens.
So no change there then.