Round of applause for failure
Just wanna give myself a high five for completely screwing up my career with less than a month to go until the new year. Been sitting on my arse rotting the last two weeks.
2025 was a shitshow like no other. I said goodbye to my beloved Merlin girl, 16 years to the day of her adoption. I’m still reeling. My job fell apart, was saved, then I tried something new and fell flat. Not much else to add.
Anyway. Gotta post to keep my streak going. I miss you, dear LiveJournal, as I miss most forums. As I think a lot of us do. I miss when our social media wasn’t intertwined with every breath we took, when we could decide which pockets of the internet we could drop our thoughts in, and know that if someone in our lives didn’t hang out there, it wouldn’t bother them. I had a crisis in 2002 when I thought my mother had seen my LiveJournal. Now she just sees everything. Because social media is fucking relentless and there is no more separation of church and state. It’s not a hobby anymore, not a pastime - it’s the transition from activity to activity, never marked meaningfully, but tracked only for a brief moment in time to be forgotten.
Not like LiveJournal, where I can revisit the past and reflect and remember. We don’t have the same attention span to he thoughtful anymore; it’s a pain in the ass to combine every bit of our lives tracked into one lump of a post, as opposed to having it thrown into an Instagram reel that expires after 24 hours.
My LiveJournal turns twenty-five next year, diligently updated in an attempt to maintain this tiny blip of an online life from the ‘before’ times. It’s older than people I’ve employed. It’s older than people I’ve spent time with. It’s older than the wrath of ‘social media’. It’s outlived its own archival software and smartphone apps.
I keep it for me, and for the usernames I see and miss and wonder about often. Proof that this era did in fact exist, if only for a little while. Where 300+ followers was an achievement of popularity and pride. Where the feed wasn’t ad after ad after ad where you’d only realise the algorithm had eaten you alive after all of your time had been wasted already.
2020 was meant to be the worst year on record, but every one since has miraculously proven me wrong. I can’t wait for whatever apps are out there to connect this account to every other account, and suddenly my LiveJournal is part of the Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/metaverse feed without even telling me.
2025 was a shitshow like no other. I said goodbye to my beloved Merlin girl, 16 years to the day of her adoption. I’m still reeling. My job fell apart, was saved, then I tried something new and fell flat. Not much else to add.
Anyway. Gotta post to keep my streak going. I miss you, dear LiveJournal, as I miss most forums. As I think a lot of us do. I miss when our social media wasn’t intertwined with every breath we took, when we could decide which pockets of the internet we could drop our thoughts in, and know that if someone in our lives didn’t hang out there, it wouldn’t bother them. I had a crisis in 2002 when I thought my mother had seen my LiveJournal. Now she just sees everything. Because social media is fucking relentless and there is no more separation of church and state. It’s not a hobby anymore, not a pastime - it’s the transition from activity to activity, never marked meaningfully, but tracked only for a brief moment in time to be forgotten.
Not like LiveJournal, where I can revisit the past and reflect and remember. We don’t have the same attention span to he thoughtful anymore; it’s a pain in the ass to combine every bit of our lives tracked into one lump of a post, as opposed to having it thrown into an Instagram reel that expires after 24 hours.
My LiveJournal turns twenty-five next year, diligently updated in an attempt to maintain this tiny blip of an online life from the ‘before’ times. It’s older than people I’ve employed. It’s older than people I’ve spent time with. It’s older than the wrath of ‘social media’. It’s outlived its own archival software and smartphone apps.
I keep it for me, and for the usernames I see and miss and wonder about often. Proof that this era did in fact exist, if only for a little while. Where 300+ followers was an achievement of popularity and pride. Where the feed wasn’t ad after ad after ad where you’d only realise the algorithm had eaten you alive after all of your time had been wasted already.
2020 was meant to be the worst year on record, but every one since has miraculously proven me wrong. I can’t wait for whatever apps are out there to connect this account to every other account, and suddenly my LiveJournal is part of the Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/metaverse feed without even telling me.
uncomfortable
