anger_frog

I kept telling myself that I wouldn't bother with anything remotely resembling a blog ever again. Too much hassle, putting yourself on display for indifferent strangers, bleeding on silicon for blind resolution. The last time I bothered with it, it seemed the only people who would comment were people I knew in real life; obnoxious people who I worked incredibly hard not to have actual conversations with. After the disaster of last summer, I decided that the blog would just be another avenue to hound me, so I left it to starve death; to be a dead end to cover my tracks and wash my hands of the latest failed experiment of my attempts of peaceful intermingling with the inbred trailer trash that seems to saturate this place like a fungal infection. But now, I'm doing it again, minus a few overzealously torched bridges and well-meaning threats to ensure true anonymity. It's just that after all these months, its finally hitting me how cut off I am from everything. This last bit was the final straw, and I retreated further back into the isolation of this hell-blasted backwater, confident in knowing that I would be moving to somewhere with an culture in a matter of months, content to sweat it out and make the most of hermitage. But fuck it; as the proud misanthrope I am, I'm starting to miss having people around. It's probaly more akin to a former smack addict missing heroin, but it eats at me with the same hunger. I'm not going back around those fuckers, especially since I made sure to damage some physical well-beings before I left, so I'm just going to pretend I'm being a human through the one-way artificial highway: Robinson Crusoe with a shitty dial-up connection, chucking out blog entries to the oblivious waves. Less than a year to go, my first freelance writing check in the mail, and the promise of living for the first in a place that can offer something other than crushing ignorance. I hope I can make this.