Hearkening back to an earlier time of self-expression and community
And hence the second answer to the question, why have I started again? Well, first up, I don’t know that I have. This could be the only new post I ever put up here. But if it is, it won’t be because I’m writing lots elsewhere. We live in a new time of isolation and fear. Twitter feels too urgent and anxious and tense right now. There’s no space to think or breathe. Facebook is filled with all the angst and pain and fury people are feeling. It’s overwhelming. Instagram is filled with people performing a perfect family lockdown experience interspersed with adverts for masks.
And suddenly, I find myself hearkening back to an earlier time of self-expression and community. The crowds have gone. There are no hordes of people waiting outside for a new post to emerge. There’s little to no pressure. Everyone’s not looking. It’s just the relics from an earlier era, posting periodically. And suddenly, maybe just for this one moment in time, that community is who I need. That community is who I miss. And talking to them in this kind of way feels right.
Spot on, especially the lines, "There's little to no pressure. Everyone's not looking. It's just relics from an earlier, era, posting periodically." I picture in my head stars from billions of light years ago, their light traversing the quiet universe, showing their presence only now. Do I make sense?
My high school classmates were intrigued that I'm not active on social media. I told them I've discovered the joy of missing out. I should've added, "But I have a blog!" (which is hardly visited and read now, perhaps just the way I like it.)