Blah-Blah-Blah-ging.

Many years ago, I made a promise to myself that I would never make a blog. I did this because I knew how much I could care less about people's problems or issues or love life or gossip or whatever else you're supposed to fill in the blank when you complain about people. I recognized my lack of empathy and sympathy towards the neighborhood blogger; and therefore assumed everyone on the planet had the same lack of concern for my inner-well being. I'm not going to tell you that I had a recent epiphany: that everyone loves me and is dying to hear me talk about myself. Because I would be lying. I'm completely aware that no one, in fact, cares at all. Which I guess can be a good thing. I feel that this constant longing and thirst we as young, and older, adults have for news about the current tantrum or rant or friendship-slaughter is almost... sadistic. If we, as a race, find that literally murdering someone is, for lack of a better term, frowned upon, what then of the figurative term? I'm referring to the phrase "stabbing them in the back." In the 1960 suspense thriller, "Psycho", ... the shower scene. Need I say more? Of course the phrase is twisted in a sense, for we do not physically see what part of Janet Leigh's  body gets the brunt of the stabbing. It could be have been the front or the back, but regardless, poor Leigh is stabbed in the front back whatever. Although the scene evolved into being one of the most famous scenes in cinema, it was not something that people thirsted for. To watch Janet Leigh get stabbed in the whatever for laughs. My point is, is that there is this ravishment we undergo - always looking for pleasure in the misfortune of others. And henceforth, I do not expect to receive followers, because I'm not going to be blah-blah-blah-ging for the audience's entertainment. I simply am writing to document my life. It sounds cliche, but when I take a look at the mundane-ness that is not my life, I feel my thoughts, feelings, and words should be seen.