This is because blogging is a cruel world. It gives you opportunity to unleash your throbbing emotions on to the internet. To me, a blog is just another 'woe is me!' and cry for help. Blogging is not all bad or dangerous. For instance: my mother, a tremendous blogger that had plenty of people invested in the well being of our cats, dog, and rather friendly frog. It was charming and took away the pain of homesickness. After my dog, Guv (that precious soul) the blog stopped. My adorable cat Dubby became depressed and the blog was abandoned. I miss the blog as I am searching for another way to ease the pain of being away from home. That blog was a happy blog, and those are the blogs I search for. I abandon my blogs, for the lack of happiness and savviness that do not fill them with.
As I sit today, brooding in my bed watching the minutes move: I have decided to blog. I came to this blog because I remember the time spent pondering the name. I was thoroughly satisfied when I decided on the title. 'I WILL BRING CLAMOR TO THE WORLD OF BLOGGING.' I remember thinking, 'AND I LOVE OYSTERS.' It was funny to me. I spelled Clamor with an extra 'u' to show the stupidity that I unintentionally brought to this blog by blogging about sandwiches.
I will make no promises to this blog, for its lively hood or for its the blog soul that lies in the tips of my fingers. This blog will most likely just end up in the index of failed blogs in the internet grave yard.
That's humorous to think about: all the long, lost blogs out there in an internet mausoleum, decaying aside other teenagers angst filled throw away blogs.
I titled this blog, "Ode to Jorhdan" because I feel she is the only one who may actually read this blog. For in fact, she is the only person that I think will see this blog. I know how interested she is in other people searching for words and thoughts to fill her big vacuole heart. I mean know offense by calling her heart a vacuole. I am also by default calling her a plant, I believe. I am referring to her heart as a vacuole strictly based upon the size ratio. A vacuole is incredibly big and possibly ever expanding, I imagine. So is her heart. The tough part about having a heart vacuole is that indeed it holds a surplus amount, but it holds good and bad. A cell can not live with out a vacuole. A vacuole holds many precious things to the cell like unwanted fluids and wastes but discretely exudes them from the cell. It sounds like a tiresome job. In no way, do I mean Jorhdan is tiresome or weak. I was just pointing out both sides to my statement. Jorhdan is tender. Jorhdan is kind. Jorhdan cares for others. I feel protective of her because she is the light that shines in a big un-illuminated city that we inhabit today.
Writing this blog was tiresome. I probably won't see you again blog. It was nice, I admit. You being the dirty hanky, soap box, rant roll or whatever this may seem to be. If this is my last post, on this short lived, youthful tragedy of a blog: I bid you farewell.
