Indeed it is. Like a child, she must be spat out of the cunt of your soul and raised in a manner that best represents one's mood, emotion, experience, and creativity. In achieving such a goal, words must be spread out, like an ethereal mist permeating an empty sky, on a canvas of html. They must be shifted to and fro, edited, arranged and then rearranged, edited, spell checked, and then edited again. Though words are meager things, they are your words, and as such, they must truly represent your thoughts. They alone stand the barrage of anger, pity, mockery, disagreement, and misery they may elicit. It is in that vein, with that thought in mind, that I intrepidly brave the stormy waters of internet blogging once more. With daring words serving as the wind in my sail, I shall set a course for calmer seas.
It is true that I have maintained a "blog" on Facebook and MySpace, but this endeavor is a unique one, for only here can I say my presence is solely expression. I need not be bothered by pokes and birthday alerts, status changes and like buttons. I need not concern myself with commenting on newly posted photos, relationship statuses, and drunken posts. Here I write. I write for whatever purpose I choose.
Writing, though, can be hard. I am a prisoner of my mind, and sometimes creativity must adhere to draconian visiting hours. Sometimes I need time to think. My brain cells must copulate again and again until at last a thought is born. And for every thought, a million projects. No, BlogSpot, you are not special. I have several literary ventures unfolding concurrently. But, I am certain a few thoughts will be spared for you from time to time. But should you become a spoiled bitch, draining me of all of my mental ejaculate, I will have no choice, but to abort you. (key in dramatic music in melodramatic minor).
