i

six years ago, i registered for a blogger account that i never got to use until now. my blogging stint started even before that with the reassuringly-named easyjournal (which at last check is surprisingly still available) way back 2002. yet the apprehension i've felt since i first started creating a digital counterpart through my fanfiction phase as a highschool dreamer lingers, a persistent thorn all throughout blogdrive and multiply, and there remains an unbridgeable disconnect with who i am, what i want to say, how i want to say it, and how i actually sound through online posts or stories and who i appear to be.

i have a love-hate relationship with blogging, and i think i will always see it as a less honest (and perhaps more stellar and most assuredly egotistic, even distorted) version of me as compared to the pen and paper journal i have already ignored too much of late, in favor of the conveniences and hypnotic lull of keyboard, the delete button, and multi-colored fonts.

at the same time, i'm allowing myself to fall through this rabbit hole of my time yet again to be swept away for who knows how long this time around. why?

because i know that when i finally wake up, there might be no more white rabbits to chase, and i will be poorer for all the adventures i lost and all the words i let slip by.