Wither Comments

Looking at old TF posts for the purposes of linking to them in more recent TF posts, I was struck by something: No fucker is commenting here any more. (Except Liv. And Li. And Wortwut. And the odd Neurocam random combing the archives.) (Gotta love those tenacious, cockroachlike Neurocam randoms.)

Where have you gone, beloved blog massive?

Do you not love me any more?

Is it because Lady J doesn’t love me any more?

That’s it, isn’t it.

It is. Don’t lie.

Actually, I don’t think that’s really it at all. It’s all about me. (It is always all about me.)

To get perhaps ill-advisedly personal for a moment (Li will enjoy this):

Towards the end of 2005, I had Learned To Love Myself. Man. Really, truly had. It was nice. It had been a long time coming.

And I got lots of comments in those days. Because as we all know, if you love yourself – like, really, truly do – then everyone else will love you too. Everyone who matters, anyways.

LJ fell in love with me at around this time. And that was great. But then I think I became dependent on her loving me in order to love myself. So when she stopped, I kinda stopped as well. Et voila: blog comments? Thing of the past.

It’s more complex than that, naturally. But it’s One Way Of Looking At Things. Makes a lot of sense to me.

This is partly the reason people sing the blues when their partners leave them. It’s partly that you just desperately miss having them around, course; it’s partly the shattered dreams of future happiness; it’s partly the sense that all this time and energy expended on getting to know this person really, really well and them getting to know you really, really well, and building trust and constructing a shared identity and blah blah blah has all gone totally to waste. It’s partly because you feel like a part of your very soul has been ripped out, leaving a huge gaping hole in your psyche.

But it’s also significantly because you’ve forgotten how to love yourself without someone else to back you up on it.

That’s really, really bad though. You shouldn’t need anyone else to love you. And the more you do, the less they will.

Am I wrong, non-existent blog readers?

It’s one of those perverse inverse dynamics that The Universe is so fond of, for some sick twisted reason that I will never entirely understand [*] except maybe when I’m on nitrous oxide.

Ah, sweet nitrous oxide.

It will never leave me. Until they make it illegal.

(Why isn’t it illegal? It’s so good.)

[*] NB This is disingenuous; I do in fact understand perfectly. It’s because people are attracted to power and personal power derives from self-sufficiency. But for the purposes of allowing this post to form a nice, natural arc, I had to pretend to be stupider than I really am. Funny how that happens sometimes.


Filed under Drugs, History, People, Self Analysis, silly humans *rolls eyes* etc, Weblogs

13 Responses to Wither Comments

  1. wortwut

    I Hear You.
    Dr wortwut prescribes time, time and more time.
    Worked wonders for me /sales pitch

  2. Liv

    I like this. I need to think more before replying.

  3. AG

    It’s quite simple really.
    If, as you contend, Book de la Face is the on line equivalent of crack, blogs are just a starter drug.
    While some have remained hoping to rekindle that special feeling one last time, many have moved on…

  4. teigan

    Dr wortwut prescribes time, time and more time.
    I think I’m finally ready to hear this.
    Thing is, it presupposes an acceptance that it’s Really All Over which I’d been resisting for a long time.
    I dunno. It’s not simple. I mean, yeah, when is it ever. But it’s really not.
    We’ll Talk, ay.
    I like this. I need to think more before replying.
    🙂 Look forward.
    If, as you contend, Book de la Face is the on line equivalent of crack, blogs are just a starter drug.
    Sorry, totally disagree. Blogs and F***book are really different platforms. Both have their uses and their qualities; they can, should, and do co-exist without eclipsing each other.

  5. I would have commented more except ive been busy with the empire.
    As your physician, i advise you to consume a large quantity of rum, and a house party.

  6. Meow! There’s a prescription I can get with.
    *buys bottle of Bundy* *submits to the Empire*

  7. if condtions persist see your nursery/headshop/brothel/dealer



  9. thepersonaboveisliableforme

    If you give me the exact measurments of that gaping hole, I’ll send you a corkstopper or something*, if it’ll help.
    *Note: I dunno if I can really do that… sorry.

  10. teigan

    1. I can’t send you anything, coz I don’t know who you are.
    2. You’re not funny.

  11. wortwut

    I concur with Raoul Xemblinosky IV’s second opinion. It’s good to do lots of fun things with the time prescribed.

  12. HitsHerMark

    Is this thing on?

  13. teigan

    Sort of. Normal service will resume once puterfulness is re-established, and I figure out what the fuck is going on with all my passwords.

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