The Scribbly One

Note to self: One should not tell too many people about one’s anonymous blog lest one might wish to bitch about any of the people whom one has told. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Ten days. Ten days of silence. I seem to go through periods when the creativity is simply bursting out of me and nothing can stem the tide of words. I write furiously, then the well dries up and I am left wordless.

It hasn’t helped that I’ve been feeling as if my life has run away with me lately. Or, more accurately, run away without me.

I just lost a post I was writing, because I accidentally clicked on a link on the “Write Post” page. Don’t ask.

I always hate losing something I’ve written. I choose my words carefully, agonise over phrasing, check and re-check the grammar, and then - poof! - it’s all gone. I lose heart when that happens, because I know I will never be able to write it exactly the same way it was. Maybe the next time I try, it’ll be better; maybe it’ll be worse. But one thing’s for sure: it’ll be different.

I’m not going to even attempt to re-write that post right now. I hate computers. Something like this would never happen with pen and paper.

I always have impossibly witty and intelligent posts written in my head, but they never sound quite as witty and intelligent put down on paper. Something unfailingly gets lost in translation.

One possible solution is to just speak my thoughts out loud and capture them with some sort of recording device. This would backfire, though, because I’d first have to set up the recording device, and that would make me self-conscious, which in turn would render me unable to articulate my sentences exactly the way I’d formulated them in my head.

If anyone ever invents a mind-reading machine, be sure to let me know, okay? Thanks.

It is very irritating to think up great things to write just as you turn out the light and find a snug comfortable position on the bed. You know you have to get up again, turn the light back on and start scribbling, because otherwise all that marvellous witty phrasing is going to fly right out of your brain and tomorrow your head will be as empty as it ever was.

Did I just admit my brain is empty? Uh… em… errr… of course it’s not! It’s got something called Grey Matter inside, right? It couldn’t possibly be empty. Could it?

I was telling a friend about this blog.

“It has a very unimaginative name. It’s called Scribbler’s Scribbled Scribblings,” I said.

“You call that unimaginative? I call it convoluted,” she retorted.

I cannot understand some people. They really have a problem. If you hate reading something so much, why make yourself read it? You already know it’ll upset you, but you insist on upsetting yourself and then making lots of noise about it - who’s the dumb one here?

Ever since some Malaysian bloggers were featured in two of the local dailies, a few of them have been receiving disparaging comments, hate mail, and become targets of mean posts from other Malaysian bloggers. Hey, give these guys a break.

There’s something about the Internet that brings out the worst in people. I remember being on a bulletin board (forum) years ago where some idiot came on and started throwing insults around. He said it didn’t matter because it was on the Internet. It’s as if he didn’t view the others on the receiving end as real people. But they are. And if you cut them, they bleed just the same.

You say there’s such a thing as “freedom of expression” and that it’s your blog and you’re entitled to write whatever you like there. I say bollocks. There’s such a thing as exercising your rights so as not to infringe on the rights of others. Every human being is entitled to be treated respectfully, especially if they are quietly minding their own business and have done or said nothing against you (or anyone close to you).

I have nothing against expressing opinions, but why is it so imperative to announce to the world that you think somebody’s blog is a bunch of rubbish or that some blogger hasn’t two brain cells to rub together? My mother used to drum into me, “If you don’t have anything good to say, say nothing.” Methinks your parents must’ve left out some important bits in your early childhood education.