August 11, 2011 § Leave a comment
No sooner do I notch 40, 90, 350 followers than I’m out the exit and run away to start another blog. Why? Is it because I crave an audience at the same time that I feel limited by one? This was the case with tumblr, too, when that platform first took off, three years ago. For a month I devotedly updated once a day. It’s just one thing, I said to myself, feeling liberated by the lack of scrutiny, perceived or actual. And I got on just fine by myself, pocketing from each day a funny phone conversation, a provocative photograph, something memorably clever a friend had said that I felt deserved to be sleeved in plastic and stored in its own neural filament, how B. chased me fleeing down the back steps of his apartment the week before Christmas break, the books I’d read, the concerts I’d been assigned to cover and that were no fun as a result of my having to compose laborious treatises about them, the lolling highs I shared with A., who had taken up smoking to function and had not stopped to breathe cold air in the last eight months. Sleeping and waking in someone else’s bed. Sleeping, drunk, and waking, still drunk. The long, long walks I took through the city. The pain of possessing a functional uterus with eggs that flushed on schedule.
And then, of course, I disappeared off to Bali for a month of humidity, bumpy trips along barely paved roads, overcast beaches. On market tables straws angled perkily out of green coconuts. Remember that time? I was sullen; my voice was clipped when I addressed my relatives; I missed Bobby horribly. When my grand-uncle sent me back to Jakarta he had me driven in a pretzel truck that nearly swerved into another vehicle in traffic. I caught a sickness and was bed-ridden, puking and feverish for a week. When my grandfather had to help me down the stairs (the apartment complex being of the sort that possessed no modern conveniences, like reliably functioning lights, or elevators) I wept and was afraid that I would die.
After that I came back but stopped updating too dependably. I’m attempting to take this up again. My life is quite small right now, so no recountings of that time I swam in a public fountain with my underpants on my head, but I will try to hone in on the important things and put them here.