blame it on my having just finished nora ephron's "i feel bad about my neck (and other thoughts on being a woman)". suddenly, all i wanted to do was to get in front of a computer and start writing. ideas just sprouted in my head, like how filipinos can defy the law of physics by stuffing so many people in a jeepney or the mrt during rush hour. or how there was a month where i bumped into exes one after the other, like they were on a parade or something. or how, just like when i was a kid, something i so super wanted i miraculously got the following day.
my officemate berates me from sharing too much online. she was the one who first did twitter, cause she said it was "cooler" to post your FB status from twitter, rather than just typing it out directly (i don't understand why, i still just type my status update directly, i'm uncool that way, i guess)and now, she can't understand why i have 2,401 tweets already and following everyone, from angelica panganiban to neil gaiman.
at that time, i couldn't really answer. i guess i just love to talk, and tweeting is a way of talking to the universe. but now, after reading ephron's book, i guess the reason why i write so many things online is because i can. and because it's cheaper than therapy, or the alternative to that, shopping. i blog (or tweet) when i'm delirious with joy and when i'm so disappointed with the world that i just want to hide under a rock. i blog when i'm freshly reveling in the joys of a new love and when my eyes are too puffy from crying that i can't hardly see the screen. i blog when i have new shoes or when i want to buy one.
i hope this "burst" of writing frenzy lasts. i think i used to like myself when writing was something i did everyday. maybe it's cause writing is a muscle - it has to be constantly exercised otherwise you get rusty, and words fail to tumble out of you in beautiful sentences. whatever. i like writing, so what if i overshare online? it's not like the universe is reading anyway.