i.d

So i'm sitting down right now, staring at my computer, trying to figure why i started writing this blog in the first place. Years ago, i remember the first few entries were fun, exciting and if not even a little, enlightening and intelligent. But now, as i'm sitting here right now, thinking of something to write, i've realized that, that sense of excitement and wonder has... left me.

But the first couple entries i wrote, it was a feeling reminiscent of the days of my youth. Like jumping the fence at night after quietly sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to go to a friend's house; only to return realizing that my epic escape had been... a complete success. Eventually, this left me smirking the entire morning after, thinking that I was actually able to fool my sucker conservative Chinese parents with my awesomeness. Obviously, all these feelings im describing are all before i subsequently realized 10 years later, that my parents had known all along and even called the friend's parents to make sure i was there. Fail. But my point is, stumbling onto this blog and writing out the things i felt were important and even interesting, it was exciting and new and reminded me of the many fun things i used to do.

The first few entries narrated the details and lessons i had learned throughout my numerous university experiences. Every mishap, every failure, every success, for each one, i would bask in the thought of what i could learn from all this and how i could even eventually grow from it. To be honest, this ability to write and to be heard was something that i felt... proud about. It wasn't so much that people cared about what i wrote about, but that i had this medium to express my every thought and opinion. It was my own personal w/c for the purging and spewing of whatever self-deluded and often inspiring thoughts that seemed to just... ooze out of me.

From the first few months to the first couple of years, i was motivated to write about the stuff of life. Stuff of life haha. I even felt like i was somehow growing from all this and by venting it into this digital receptacle, i was laying down evidence, proving that i was indeed getting stronger and growing wiser.

But in recent years, i've somehow lost that initial joy and motivation i once had to write. As I've continued to read up on the blogs written by friends, they've somehow remained consistent towards laying down montages of their life for the public to read. Some have even branched out professionally, writing about public issues and events they seem to deeply care about. Others have continued to write about their exploits and endeavors, even showcasing certain hobbies and talents they've gained over the years. All in all, they've continued to find joy and passion in their online defecation.

I wonder how they continue to do what they do? Where do they find the inspiration? And lastly and most importantly, why do they continue to care? Right now, I feel like I'm done trying to prove to myself by writing down evidence of my growth, that i have changed and am changing. Lessons learned, sudden reflections and moments of enlightenment, whats the point? What does that even mean anymore: Change? and why is it necessary or important to change, to mature and to grow. And who am i changing into, and who should i be aiming towards changing into? and how do i come up with a standard or a measure of growth?

Sometimes, i just wish i could be that kid sneaking out at 12 or 1 at night. I wish i could
have something to look forward to. I need something to look forward to.