Oblivion

Hello?

Anybody there?

Remember me?

I hardly remember how to do this. After a really long break, I have emerged. I stumbled upon a blog (well, it was more like looking up old friends and following links to other people) hosted by none other than blogger that reminded me that, I too, have a blog. It's usually the times when I read others' words that I long to write words of my own. Words. There. I did it.

As usual, things are very different than the last time I wrote. For the better, I must say, although at this point in my life I am wondering why I feel a need to tell anyone about my life. I mean, in a public way such as a blog. I guess it's the young kid in me who wanted to be a star. Aren't we all writers on the internet? Don't we have ourselves fooled into believing that people care about our lives? And then there's actually the ones who do care about what they read. They're the ones to whom I don't want to provide any information. That's the funny thing. The ones that care are the ones I don't want to know anything.

Doing a search for a person yields such odd results sometimes. The ones I search for are the ones I don't really want to find. It's hard to explain. I usually try to find out information on a person, but I don't actually want to know anything. I guess it's my own private way to torture myself. I'm looking up the people who have hurt me the most, just so I could simmer in my own juices at their little successes or to notice how different our lives have become.

Oddly, the people that I could list as the closest friends in my life are an obvious void from my friend lists now. One of my first friends, a friend in high school who I will refer to as "J" has been the hardest for me to get over. Our friendship was important to me. I thought she thought the world of me, until she just dropped me. I'm not sure what happened and that's probably what makes it the most difficult to accept. Most of the other friends--or so-called friends, as it turned out--I could explain away through faults of my own. But J was different. I thought we'd be friends forever, and that's not something I usually think. Since I'm young I have realized that most friends are more of a convenience than anything. They share something in common with you and your lives are similiar. It's difficult to be friends when your lives are different.

So I searched for J and found her friend online...the one who's blog inspired me to write this bumbling post. Will I write again soon? Who knows. Maybe. Until then, I'll send this out to the oblivion of the internet and imagine someone else stumbling upon it.