I remember the first time I blogged with WordPress. It seemed so magical, but at the same time it was this discrete entity under my control. I owned the server and the database and could do with it whatever I pleased with not a care in the world. Occasionally someone would read my posts and occasionally they were immature, and I still regret some of the things I said. But it was exciting having my own little space in the world to make words.
Contrast that with now and this blog is just another amorphous cloudy glorb with secret inner workings that I don’t care to understand let alone do anything with. The magic has been lost amongst the noise and ads and monthly subscription charges. And that’s part of how we’ve gone months between posts, dear diary.
I’m thinking now the world’s changed I should write more. The closest I’ve come to keeping a diary is my alt Twitter, locked away for nobody but myself. But that tends to capture the worst of me for no real reason other than the convenience of shouting into the void. I sometimes miss composing the odd paragraph or two for the screaming abyss. So, I suppose, that’s this.
I also remember the first time I composed a blog post on my phone, the little T9 keyboard of my Nokia 6120c worn bare from the exuberance of modern technology. Now it seems so normal to lay in bed unable to sleep and swipe out a wanky obituary to good times past. I’m sure someday I’ll fondly remember these with the same tint.