Absence

Assalamu'alaikum.

Hello! Is anyone here? *crickets crickets*

Well,  I guess... not.

I'm shamelessly writing this post because I thought, for a nanosecond there, it is worth it. All that time thinking that this whole blogging idea has gone out of the window for me and here I am. Embrace me, please. I've missed you. And... nanosecond ends.

I kept blaming the poor internet connection in this side of the earth. But really, that's superficial. That wasn't a reason, that was an excuse. Two very different things. I could survive a shipwreck, get stuck in an island alone, and I'd still find the means to write using tree barks and a stick with bees and squirrels as my readers. Because I really do like writing even it doesn't like me as much most times.

Perhaps it's the idea of constantly having to put myself out there for virtual strangers. I don't think this blog gets much traffic but I got a little paranoid. I felt like I was getting a little too sentimental. I post a lot about my feelings. Unlike most bloggers, you won't find a lot of activities in my life here because I thought that was too personal. So I wrote about feelings, my feelings. The intangible sides of my daily activities, the ones I can't put into snapshots but I can relive through worded descriptions. That was and is the content of this blog. Because more than anything else, inside this image-saturated world we live in, my loyalty still belongs with words.

And then it started getting strange. Because everyone who's everyone is sharing everything about their lives and that was scary... at least for me. An overwhelming display of the nooks and crannies of the most personal moments with their loved ones. And the things, man, actual things! I can sit for two hours scrolling my feed and see nothing but bags, lipsticks, and shoes. It was beautiful and terrifying.

I got scared for myself. It was weird enough for me to share the minutest details of my life. How much more if it was my most intimate feelings? And I had to constantly ask myself if I was using social media the correct way. What is the correct way of using it, anyway? The line is smudged, almost indistinguishable in fact. Everything is correct and incorrect at the same time. Why are people so confident about sharing things about their lives while I find it creepy?  Am I using social media as a tool? Or am I being used as a tool? I overthink everything.

I find it funny because I am not famous. This blog only exists because I find writing fun and therapeutic. And perhaps I was thinking someone may read this blog and relate to me. Or maybe not. It didn't matter. As long as I was writing something. But then this sphere got a little shallow that I felt suspended in the air somehow.

And maybe that's the hidden reason behind all the other reasons I try to tell myself for my absence. I tell myself I have to strike a balance. Easy? Not. Will try? Yes. And... nanosecond ends.