With growing up comes a sense of loss,of death, of something gone awry and not quite right.It isn't quite the same as altering superficially with age and remaining youthful at the core.Something within hardens,toughens and turns into an impenetrable lump that cannot be swayed or moved easily.
Perhaps some of the aftermath spills over to the blog.I started the blog as a chit of a 21 year old with no concrete intention whatsoever.It was intended to be a place to recuperate. I used to call it 'Alone all the Way'. I wrote about darkness,distress,disillusionment,dichotomy and a lot of other things beginning with other letters of the alphabet.A year later I reinvented myself as 'La Diva'; so as to say,'I cerebrate therefore I am apathetic'.
My apathy was pronounced in the way I scourged for anything and everything that would make the blog appear a tad off tangent. I was apathetic enough to say that I loathed the empty blubbering of contemporary literature. My nonchalance was enough to start a whimsical campaign to 'plunge platitude down the drain',to write scathing things about Dan Brown's fiction writing skills and to drool over Dostoyevsky and lament his misfortune.
Now,the growing up starts.Just as a raw yearning gave way to apathy. The apathy slowly makes way for the ambivalence that has no end.The intensity fizzles out. There is just a lurking sense of the nebulous.
The aging spirit; a full circle it doth make.