Sunday, 12 May 2013

My blog baby.

This sounds weird and slightly neurotic, but I've recently become quite protective over my blog. I still don't talk about my blog, just in passing to my closest friends, but no one else. I occasionally tweet my blog URL and it's linked to my profile, and despite my view counter, I'm under the impression that this thing is hidden from nearly everyone I know. I never used to be so protective over my writing, but I'm starting to adopt a sort of kinship with it. It's like my baby, metaphorically speaking. My best kept secret. It's like my online diary, in one respect, in another, it's merely a vacuum where I can vent my deepest passions and my greatest desires and upsets. My interests, my loves and hates, everything and anything. Non-specific. Not able to be thrown into one category or the next. From my endless Friends references, to my slight pessimistic streak, it's all contained in a little package I like to call The Beautiful and The Damned.

And you know what the most ironic thing is about it all, I've never even read The Beautiful and The Damned. 

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