the cat and the pillow and the jello-like fishes

i’ve never been very good at maintaining blogs for a diverse set of reasons: first, i’m a lazy son of a gun; second, i’m not really comfortable or that interested in gutting myself out in public; third, well, i am just that lazy… haha….

But I do have one interest right now, and that is, writing fan fiction, specifically DARAGON fanfiction, so this here portal will serve as my channel for all the workings of my DARAGON-obsessed mind.

By the way, for the uninformed, DARAGON stands for DARA = Sandara Park and GON = GDragon aka Kwon Jiyong. Teehee 😛



Time was when keeping a journal or a diary meant lugging around (or stashing in the secret corners of one’s bedroom) a thick, book-bound notebook with yellowed and coffee-stained pages. The last time I kept such a journal was way back when I was a fresh-eyed high school sophomore and it wasn’t so much a journal for the every-day humdrum events of my life as it was a tell-all confessional. At least it was for my mother who, tragically for me, came upon it one day in the midst of her general house cleaning, and was shocked and scandalized, to say the least, to read my views on marriage, religion and sex. I was fourteen, and understandably, it perturbed her so much that her quiet, unassuming daughter could entertain such “revolutionary” thoughts. That incident resulted in a big fight, and since then I have forever distrusted the idea of setting on print my thoughts and ideas, for the reason that not everyone may exactly agree with them, and well, my privacy could well be invaded again.

Years later, in my years as a college journalist, I stuck to writing news articles, and mostly political features— stuff that, although it all seemed cerebral enough— protected me from the prying and judgmental eyes of other people. I felt safe while I was writing those articles. Nobody could attack me for writing about features that hid behind the journalistic guise of objectivity. I was not gutting myself out in public.

With the advent though of the internet and the rise of online blogging, more and more people have been taking to gutting themselves out in public like a fish to water. At last a medium that allows people to make more of their mundane existence. Suddenly, the mundane did not seem so mundane anymore. There was nothing too trivial as to not write about it. Everything, from the acquisition of a new boyfriend or a new couch, a heartbreak or the end of one’s quest for the perfect silhouette-hugging jeans, was blogged about and put out for the whole world to see. Everyone could now be a celebrity.

Blogging, though, still does have its roots in “free expression”.  As it was with  the blog’s antiquarian ancestor, the diary, the blog serves the purpose of providing us with an outlet, albeit now public, to express our rages, our bliss, our frustrations and our dreams.