Barenaked

Barenaked

One day, in the midst of a totally irrelevant activity, my first ever blog-entry flashed past my mind. In it, I talked about my (horrible) experiences with love and loss, and the fear and emotional baggage that comes along with it.

I used to be a shameless writer who wrote from the heart, regardless of how naked my thoughts were. Blogging was my outlet to rant, and "airing" dirty laundry (everything from griping about being lonely, quarrels with the boyfriend to the mushiest entries ever) didn't quite seem to bother me then. I guess I was much less wary/afraid of being judged when I was younger.

Growing up makes one wiser, yet at the same time more jaded.

I can't remember how or when it started, but I have developed the habit of screening my thoughts and words before I publish a blog entry. You know what, to put it in a bad way, I would say my blogging has been commercialized to a certain extent.

What's worse about this gripe-filled entry is that I am just not gung-ho enough to say, "Who cares what other people think of me?" Of course I care! And caring has dissolved my baring-all into mundane activity descriptions.

This should stop.

Wednesday was Corrinne May night. Hmm. Like my colleague Eileen, I definitely think Corrinne May does much better during mini-gigs with a smaller audience. Her 1.5 hour long concert was just too much for me and my hunger pangs. Let's just leave the review at that.

Then again, there were a couple of highlights like when she performed Mr. Beasley, Something About You and her rendition of Close to You. As I lost myself in the lyrics and her voice, I almost expected to see Jason beside me instead of Justin (no offence dude!) when the songs ended. Will spare you guys the history lessons on how her songs played a part is us getting together.

A certain act of concern my brother showed for my sister-in-law at dinner tonight reminded me of Jason. I could just imagine him doing the same thing to me.

I miss him. It's not the I-can't-live-without-seeing-him kinda miss, nor the I-don't-necessarily-miss-him-just-miss-having-someone kinda miss. It was a simple tug on the heart that serves as a reminder of how much he means to me.

Of late, his being away at camp has provided me with a bit more time to think and analyse, and I found myself wondering how our feelings were gonna last and not dull. (Not fade, but you know, the monotonous dull. Think that little dinner episode answered my question. :)

There, my first step to not caring (so much) about what others think.