During the first half-year after I created my blog, I wrote a total of 67 posts. 67! Book reviews, Classical Pieces of the Week, random reflections… I truly put most of my wandering mind, on the Internet. As such, creating an Internet identity is the closest I’ve felt to a pioneer in the Western sense (without the physical hardships, and hopefully, cruelty): journeying through the “unconquered” land of newly-discovered sites like Goodreads and Blogger, forging connections with those forging similar paths, the excitement and uncertainty, the awe with every new acquiring (blog awards, new buttons)! I look back to the post I made for my first “blogoversary” and reminisce fondly about the growing community that surrounded me. The Internet is not the world, but it was a beautiful world to me then… and beautiful now in its nostalgia.
My pioneering of the Internet occurred synchronously with my pioneering of my own mind. And this former pioneering was both a cause and an effect of the latter one. Perhaps the paradox of delving more and more consciously into yourself and the world is that while your vision of them expand, your actions tighten because of this very expansion. At least, that’s how I feel like growing up has applied to me. I’ve become a lot more self-conscious and selective of what I choose to publish on my blog, I’ve privatized my Instagram, and I’m leaving much of my writing in private notebooks. Of course, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. 67 (much of them rambling) posts would not be healthy for you or me. But the issue I take with myself is that I don’t think I’m spending less time on the Internet than I was before. This tightening of action has prompted in me habits of both conformism and non-conformism that (though I’m reluctant to admit) have resulted in all the same thing: obsessively liking and retweeting, sharing with a dismissed haste, an occasional dialogue, circular existentialism. Whatever drama these statements evoke is probably due less from exaggeration, and more from what this era has self-defined as normal. Continue reading “7 Years of This Here”