Yet again, I have no idea why I am doing this, nor why I am so blatantly posting ridiculous details of my life to the scary void known as the Internet, but I am honestly so so bored and I feel like I should do something interesting with my life that’s not productive.
Plus, at the lovely recommendation from my dear sister (Sup you little stalker) I have started reading this book called ‘Girl Online’ by Zoella, and I guess it’s like how I associate books with my everyday life, like a lot? For example, after reading/watching ‘If I Stay’ I had a seriously intense urge to start learning the cello and join a band. Yeah. So this is my way of ‘diffusing’ the words of literature into the person who I am, and I have no idea if that even made sense.
But then like the concept of the online world is actually so frightening to think about, like with Facebook and Instagram. For all we know, there could be some creepy pedophilic stalker who is currently reading everything I put online and doing that location tracking thing and finding out where I live and waiting for the perfect time to come murder/kidnap/hold me for random etc. Just saying. Lovely inspirational words from dear Chloe.
Okay, anyways. Back to the ‘main’ topic of this. It’s the ‘summer’ holidays so I’m in Taiwan now. Yay. The world of amazing Asian food and shopping and books and fast Internet. Actually, no, that’s the glorified, tourist pamphlet version. In reality it’s just days of avoiding human contact and sitting in the same place the whole day and only leaving the apartment to get food. And sighing at how depressing New Zealand really is.
Oh look, they’re playing Fur Elise. I miss the piano already.
This is actually so lonerish and boring I don’t even. Like the idea of sitting here not knowing what to do, not the ‘Let’s just rant about my life in the Internet’, cause I’m okay with that (lolol).
Okay seriously, how do people do this? There is not a single detail of my life that is interesting and worth writing about, and everything I publish sounds so cringeworthy when I go back and read it months later that I just internally facepalm at my past self and regret it all. (P.S. Please, for my sake, do’t go back and read the pathetic stuff that I’ve posted…)
I have to go now. What a tragedy.