i think one reason why I really cant be bothered to write here anymore is because unlike in the past, where i only pretended not to care about other people knowing what I felt and thought (honestly, the vanity of adolescence), I think I've been calloused enough that I cannot really be bothered anymore

I think there usually is the vain (though often subconscious desire) to be thought of as more eloquent and more poignant than we can normally muster, but I think a decent amount of introspection together with a fair bit of reading is humbling enough to point out the pointlessness of that venture.


Im almost ashamed to dig up the vaults of this blog, to see how I used to write (and by extension) think when I was younger. I think I was much more eager, and much more idealistic then...

Im not sure where those ideals have gone. I used to see myself as a postmodernist?
I think I only truly started to become one after I turned 24.

You see, I used to think that all this running around, this flailing about under the sun was pointless, but I used to think that there was a centre, a core,  platonic realm full of ideals that would one day extend to ours and make everything ok.

Nowadays Im not so sure anymore.
Perhaps, there are not platonic ideals, and perhaps we are too flawed to be restored.