Thanks to technology that keeps track of all this shite, I can say with some degree of certainty that this is the 200th one of these things I’ve posted since starting this up in 2009. It doesn’t seem like it’s been seven-and-a-half years, but that’s mostly because I took rather large break periods throughout what I’m calling the great depression, which is different from the Great Depression because that was a prolonged period in the 1930s where many Americans lived in dire poverty, as opposed to spending much 2014 and 2015 feeling a bit confused and directionless. (I still do. More on that some other time. Probably.)
Throughout this blog’s lifetime, it’s squatted on free blog hosting platforms before migrating to its own more permanent domain, literally. It’s had so many name changes I actually can’t remember any of them – they’ve simply been purged from my memory for bring so terrible and, come to think of it, part of me still isn’t so sure that “words about things” has the right gravitas about it. Ultimately, we are where we are and it’s an ever-evolving tapestry and yadda yadda yadda.
For the most part, other people what aren’t me have generally not found it, save for those moments when I’ve nailed up huge neon signs pointing towards it and practically begged fellows to go and give it a look. More often than not, these occasions have led me to believe that openly advertising and directing people towards this blob of the web where I let my brain go and say shit probably isn’t the best course of action in the first place. Also, I’m a fairly solitary figure and have begun to accept that I don’t necessarily want others snooping around my half-formed thoughts and stupidly long sentences.
So why still do this in a public environment? Well, fuck it, I’ve come this far. It’s become like an annoying routine. And like all annoying routines, you might actually miss them when they’re gone. It might also be nice to use as evidence to back up my answer to the question inevitably asked to lazy people at one time or another: “so, what have you actually been doing for the last (obscene amount of) years?”
In recent months, however, I’ve noticed a spike in actual activity on here. Not from me, mind. I’m keeping this steady at a one-per-week kind of rate and, somehow, still maintaining that. No, I mean from outsiders. From others, from afar. And not only are they visiting my blog, they’re leaving me little messages in the “seriously-considering-if-I-should-disable-it-or-not” feature of the comments section. Normal people can’t see them though. Not unless I approve them. Which I don’t. Why?
…ahem…
This June, I received a charming message from Donna on a post I’d done some two months before. It reads thus:
Did you just create your new Facebook page? Do you want your page to look a little more “established”? I found a service that can help you with that. They can send organic and 100% real likes and followers to your social pages and you can try before you buy with their free trial. Their service is completely safe and they send all likes to your page naturally and over time so nobody will suspect that you bought them. Try their service for free here: (http link containing random strings of alphanumeric characters truncated)
I’m still undecided on whether or not Donna is a real human being whose just being helpful in trying to get traffic to my blog. Part of me is convinced that she’s simply a front for a Data Oriented Nuisance Notification Android, or D.O.N.N.A. Either way, with the greatest of respect to her/it, I’m not really interested.
As August rolled around, I started to get a few more responses to posts that I’d done… ages ago. These comments were a lot more brief, but no less insightful. They also evoked a similar sentiment within me; something of an internal tut and eye-roll, for want of a better description. Messages ranged from oddly complimentary without context…
Thank you so much for your time in writing this post.
…to somewhat unintentionally insulting to my writing style…
Have high quality written content at an affordable price.
…to whatever the hell this means…
9s6BrQ
On four individual occasions, I’ve also received the same recommendation for what’s labelled “Generic Viagra”, you know, as opposed to your fancy-pants, glitter-filled, soul-healing voodoo viagra.
What’s amazing about all of this is that throughout August and now spelling into September, the frequency of these lovely messages is accelerating at a pace far beyond what I could ever have imagined this blog would see. I suppose at one point, I wanted to be noticed and I wanted random people to flock to my blog from all walks of life, to read about mind and think: “hey, what a cool kid, let’s find out more about this guy and be buddies forever and etc.” However, as I’ve pointed out, a sense of apathy and loneliness has gradually seeped its way into my psyche, so the thought of having followers and respondents feels weird and unnecessary now.
Of course, now! Now that I don’t want the crowds to find me, they’ve decided to show up. I suppose there’s nothing bad about that, though. 19-year-old-me would probably be excited about the prospect of having comments to read through and Mark As Spam on a regular basis. Although that guy’s gone. He grew up and became 27-year-old-me who begrudgingly goes through that busy work and muses that of all of the audiences this emotionally detached idiot could attract, perhaps it’s only fitting that I get the robots.
Much in the same way that smells have the power to transport your subconscious backwards through time to recall long lost memories, certain pieces of music can do likewise according to the timeframe in which they were most listened to. During my university days, a fellow student and friend I oft neglect contact with nowadays introduced me to the music of New Zealanders The Naked And Famous. I also spent a lot of music listening time in the kitchen, mostly whilst washing dishes.
Since those days, I’ve regrettably not listened to those albums much, but an out-of-the-blue message from the aforementioned friend earlier this year notified me of this comeback track. The musical style of buzzing electronics coupled with almost ghostly call-out vocals was there; it was like they’d never been away, like I was still all alright, like I was still living in a relatively stress-free time before my brain went all wobbly and anxious on me. Yearning for a long lost era (i.e. about three or four years ago) doesn’t detract from the fact that upon first listen, my initial instinct was to grab a washing-up liquid bottle.
The Naked And Famous – Higher
Jamie Walsh 
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