An origin story

Dear Blog.

Thank you for giving me space to write. Although in this world, where cloud technology prevails, there is no worrying about it. But hey,I, thank you for storing my thoughts. Stupid, meaningless thoughts. I assure you, I will keep coming back.

I know since coming home from the residential semester, I've been a bit distracted. I've been posting things, I felt vague about. I used to write things effortlessly. I never forced myself to type up things, experiences or events. All these posts have been posted because they contributed to my daily life and I had to write them up before they slowly fade away from my memory. And some things I didn't make a post about as some things were better to be forgotten and removed from the past. Mind that.

Dear Blog,
I created you almost four years ago. These four years, I've kept you posted. Maybe some days. I didn't because you know why. Those days I felt blue and couldn't get up from bed. But you learned my story, you saw my evolution these four years. You saw me grow. Let it be a small growth. Let it be nothing worth. You were there that all it counted then, because I was struggling with myself. I told you stories that meant something to me at that time, those stories don't mean anything to me now. I told you about the Men I was crushing on. I told you about my biased grandma. I told you about the shows I was obsessing over. I told you...about lots of things. I confessed. Although my life wasn't/isn't much eventful, I squeezed everything up into a post, just for a satisfying feeling. Writing has always been something I ended up doing when I am confused, left out, delusional, emotional or in glee.

Dear Blog,
I've named you Everly after the name of a very rare and unpopular band. Bethany Joy Lenz was one of the members of that band, in fact I found the band on the web through her name, as she was kind of popular for the role she played of Haley James in One Tree Hill, this show I was getting utterly obsessed with at that time and for some reason I picked this name for my blog. Side information, I never even liked any of the music of the band. It was just the name. And another interesting thing is, when I was on my second or third post, I found out on web that, Channing Tatum and his wife Jenna named their new born daughter Everly. I was utterly pleased with my name picking. You are like my baby. I named you and I nurtured you with my posts. Since 2013, you've been modified and redesigned.

Dear Blog,
I changed your address couple of times because I gave it to my cousin once and after I felt kind of insecure of the information I shared (She didn't need to know everything, e.g: I hated our grandma. or that I am an emotional mess sometimes) so I changed it until I settled with the domain name Legacy. It has a significance as well. You know what legacy means, don't you. Let me take you back to GOT season 2 where Tywin Lannister explains it to Arya, It's what remains of you when you're gone. However I didn't watch GOT when I made this domain, I just completed Fault in Our Stars novel then, and it made me think about death and people forgetting me after my death and somehow, it all connected to this one word Legacy. So I worked it all out.

Dear Blog,
I am sure you're not being read by other persons. That is why I write to you. You are reliable and you don't know my face. You just know some of things I talk to you. You have a limited knowledge of my identity. Until one time, I saw this comment of a stranger, he told me, he reads my blog. I replied him and he didn't reply back. Maybe he read a few. Or just that post only. I bet he didn't come back to read again. Hey. I read you. I read the old posts I posted you. And sometimes they make me laugh at how stupid I've been and still being one.

Dear Blog,
I don't have good philosophy.
But I have realized the more I am growing old, the more I am losing the touch with my soul. The core self that stays beneath my flesh and skin. The more I am getting sad and whined up. I tell you one thing.
At the very beginning of my childhood, I felt like I had this energy to be different than others. Some hidden potential that was waiting to be discovered. But I was always hiding myself out. Keeping myself tamed. Even though I knew something was different about me.

Now growing up I feel I crave for that little difference I had in me. I crave for the rawness I easily hidden and so intently that it is never to be found again. I used to think- the only way you will feel like you belong is following what others do. I have forgotten what made me different, outstanding and unique than other girls, the day I started to be like them.

Dear Blog,

I've never had a boyfriend. I drive boys away. Even the boy who had taken a liking to me. Even the boy who I like. Even the boy I thought I liked.

Dear Blog,

I have stopped writing you in detail of how I truly feel. Because when I start doing that now, it depresses me of how I think myself to be. How I have no structurally good ambitions in life and how I am not making any progress with myself.

Dear Blog,

Have I told you, the Singer Guy kind of likes me. Well AS A FRIEND. He called me sister on a group chat. Before I used to have a feeling like he hates me or something. Recently, I've been observing, he notices me and talks with me even when he has plenty of people around him to talk to, he instead chooses my hair as a conversation topic. Change your shampoo brand as he would say.


Dear Blog,

Have I told you I've been crazy about him since I spent the residential semester, (three months) listening to his songs every night before going to dorm and him making fun of me, saying rude things to my face yet I enjoyed his mocking. Have I told you I used to sing with him and he once praised my voice. Have I told you, even seeing his pretty af girlfriend's picture, I was calm and poised and even took a liking on stalking her facebook profile. And have I told you his pictures of his cute af niece always makes me want to have babies?

Dear Blog,
I don't know what I actually feel about him. His presence makes a difference to me that I can say.
Enough about him now!

Dear Blog,
The thing I like about you is that- You don't judge.

Dear Blog,
Some days I feel like writing my heart out on you. This is one of those days. I feel like telling you everything I've been saving up in this head of mine.

Dear Blog,
My friends think I am kind of dumb. They balance out by saying I am cute and adorable too.
But I am dumb there's no denying it.
I partly am responsible as I act kind of dumb in front of them when I don't want to appear as knowing too much. Trust me, that happens rarely.
And there's another reason too. I am nice and boring. I don't have good come-backs.
I don't make funny remarks and get the conversation going. I give up on me. Very easy and fast.

Dear Blog,

Always know that I will come back. Let me grow. I wish you to bear with me till I turn fifty. Fifty is my surviving goal. I don't want to live with diseases and horrors that they bring to an aged body. However I am barely sure of living that far.

Dear Blog,

If I stop writing posts for a year or more than a year, think that I have died. I will leave my password somewhere for someone to find out. So they write something for me when I am gone. Maybe my cousin or a true friend and maybe make a tribute on facebook sharing some of my silly posts. I wouldn't mind that. Although I wouldn't be alive to mind that. Although I wouldn't be alive to see people getting that much interested in my life. Forget it. Just note that if I stop for a year, I am dead to you.

Dear Blog,

I thought about you when I was away from home last semester without wifi connection and privacy in the computer lab. I thought about you when all the nicest things were happening to me back there. Like being surrounded by friends. Being loved and adored. Nicest things- Dancing crazily on a night function with friends, screaming lyrics of songs under the starry night. Nicest things- walking barefoot on grass, nicest things, watching storm from top of our dorm building from my room window, nicest things being- teared up with my friend's roommate who was almost a stranger until I wrapped myself around her arms and sobbed  when we both realized we were all leaving for home the next day. Or the sentimental things- I determined myself one night of asking out this one guy who had been delivering me pickup lines every time I met him...or the Practical things- I ended up not asking him out, instead avoided feeling anything romantic toward him. And then the singer guy was always in the back of my mind.


Dear Blog,
Thank you.
Thank you for being there when there was urgency. When it was precedent.
When I suffocated with words in my head.
Know that, you are appreciated and preserved with date,time, month and year.
You are one true Blank Space I pledge to fill up until I die one day taking back nothing.
I can promise you that while I am alive now.

x
your one true author.