Signs of Transference

I have come full circle, it seems. Way back in the past, Blogger was my very first foray into blogging. It was later followed by Xanga, and then, finally--or so I thought--Live Journal.

I always rather liked Blogger: I found it to be deliciously functional and clean, with no allusions to community or friendship--it was, simply, a place to write, for writing sake. I suppose I left because I sought some form of recognition--or perhaps I was merely testing the internet-waters, exploring the possibilities and such.

At any rate, my transference over to Xanga was particularly ill-advised: I soon realized that the entire community was infested with childrin, brainless teenagers and plain impossible to read blogs. It was a far too common occurrance for my liking to happen upon blogs where the text color was the same (or very similar) to the background colors. Which invariably led to the suspicion that the authors really didn't give a monkey's turd if their blogs were readable or not (in hindsight, probably a good thing, having been made to endure some of their more tedious entries).

Live Journal was a breath of fresh air--in many ways it saved me from Xanga hell, as it shall forever be known now--but its aspiration to be community-driven, multi-functional and build bridges between internet folk muddied the waters. It strives to be a middle ground between Myspace and Blogger; unfortunately, that is a middle ground I find no satisfaction in occupying. Its members--predominantly intelligent and possessing capable writing skill--are caught between online socializing, casually reporting their day and humorous japes. Not a bad thing, obviously--but as I realized a few nights ago, the Mindstruct peg don't fit into the Live Journal hole.

So I hath returned, and I must admit, it feels fantastic: the focus is reduced down to its most essential component: writing--there are no allusions to anything else, and thus, no distractions. I am, and always have been, a voice in the internet ether. A notion I find somehow poetically pleasing and poignant in some, curious ineffable way. But Blogger has always evoked a sense of the existential in me (in some part, due to the dark theme I seem to inevitably gravitate toward), from the very first entry I wrote, about 6 years ago now, to the present day. It must be the voice thang... ya, definitely.

All of which brings me close to the end of this first post, and evermore closer proximity to making another cup of coffee. If you're reading this, greetings--if not, fuck off. Seriously. And if God forbid you find yourself masturbating to these hallowed words, I pray it ends with a mindblowing orgasm, the kind that knocks old ladies out of windows and makes elephants spontaneously combust.

Yes, I do the funny sometimes. BYE.

Mindstruct