Small heads-up before you read, I've co-written this article with almost-a-decade younger me. Feel free to guess which parts are which, as a fun gimmick.
9 Years Old. That's how old this web domain is. I vividly remember the day I got it too, for free thanks to Github's student program (GRAB YOURS HERE !!1!), I spent a lot trying to figure out the perfect domain name for it. cynical.me. All the gurus talk about how your domain name has to be memorable. I remember hesitating for not getting a "dot com" name, but apparently the desire to stroke my ego was stronger than my desire to .com.
Soon after came the idea of this blog post, which might be the longest I'll ever take writing one. Gaps of almost a decade inbetween paragraphs. I'm currently writing this on my phone's memo app, because at this point I've acknowledged that I'll have to embrace my thought process's chaos. Why must I sit and type out the entire article in one sitting, while most of my life convictions have been constructed in scattered hours of thought.
Planning short-term goals while grabbing meat in the supermarket, or grabbing my meat while contemplating my long-term dreams, I've always taken multiple thought iterations to come up with my best plans.
I truly love the person that I am, and most of that probably comes from the fact that I believe myself to be not just an incredibly astute person (I've had to look this up just now to find the exact word to convey my point), but also someone with an abnormally accurate memory (I'll never forget the word astute again (and I didn't - I also remember what I used to memorize it : acute smartness)).
Combined with the fact that I've had SOME success in my life endeavors, in spite of series of bad hands that I've been dealt, have probably inflated my ego enough to be able to hold my dreams.
Still, inside this castle of ego, I feel self-aware, I hope. And I hope, that after reading my thoughts and seeing my work, you’ll start to see me past this castle's distorting windows. I also know that I’m my own biggest cynic, part of why I took so long to write this is likely because how hard I've been on myself. I’ve lived, failed and did, thought and felt, and spent so much on what I consider half-assed achievements before finally reaching the day where I’m ready to risk all of myself on display. Will the concert of my life rock the souls of those present so hard it reverberates through their progeny? That’s a question only (You) can answer my dear reader.
I love (You). Your sheer existence fuels me. It just so happens I’m sitting in a cafe as I write this part, and lord knows that every single purposeful step taken by the people I'm looking at fascinates me. Some of them are headed straight to the shitter, after asking the waiter where it is.. And others are lost, happy, religious, wasted, committed. But what genuinely makes me happy to my core, is how every person on this planet will always have an experience, an idea, a simple thought, that no other creature but themselves would offer me. If every soul was drawn as circles on paper, no matter how old, young, experienced or illiterate a person is, no person's disc will ever be a complete subset of another.
I love you, and I know you love me too. Part because you're already 80% into this blog post, part because I'm delusional. I've managed to make something as mundane as "thinking" this interesting to read, can you imagine what I'd be able to come up with if I actually wrote about something interesting?
Are people really going to read all this? "Of course they are, I'm a word artist." My ego instantly answers me, as I stroke it more in bed.
Will I mention how I'm still coming up with a structure to this article as I go? How I might be thinking that I need to include more wordplay? How I'm simultaneously thinking about the technicals of how my website would look like? and how I'm just now noticing that this text looks hella long on my memo app?
It was indeed "hella long". Click Here to color code which blog's parts were written by my younger self. Could you tell? I can tell I've changed a bit, but I know my general sentiment hasn't. I always (and still) loved the gambling aspect of a blog like this: After this much glazing, I'll either have to rewrite history, or write my will.
The good news is, that I'm only this eager to self-compliment in prose. So I guess I'll have to make sure the rest of my life is poetic.