Tess In Space

Ahh, newblog. It already feels so homey. Why am I here (at this internet location instead of the old one - let's not get more complicated than that right now)? Because I am Tess, and this is my blog; I realized that that's all there is to it. Took long enough. Lately I've been trying to untwist my knickers and not be so serious about stuff, because most of our earthly stuff is trivial. I'm overcoming the habit of taking myself very seriously - if you were to call me up a few years ago, I probably would have been too busy chiseling my crappy poetry into marble to come to the phone. But here's how it really is: I yam who I yam, I do what I do, I think how I think and it doesn't matter if it's right or wrong or stupid or glorious, it just is, and is nothing more or less. Hence Tessblog. Love me, love my blog.

Now I'll try to explain why I indulge in the generally ludicrous habit of blogging, and I'll have to talk about my brain to do it. (If you have no interest in the way I think, never visit this site again.) One unbecoming trait of my brain is that it is a shite storage facility. I call myself a writer because I actually need to write stuff down in order to think properly, lest my thoughts end up with all the socks that the dryer eats. I'm also the type to develop an inner monologue, and if I kept it up, it would probably make me crazy. I used to lose sleep by narrating my own thoughts. Writing in a diary didn't get my thoughts far enough from my brain for me to really believe them - because in order to validate them, I'd try to ask myself if they made sense, but my own answer was meaningless since my personal reality is so plastic. So my thoughts ended up here in the industrial labyrinth of the intertubes. No one has to put up with them or give a shit (bonus if someone does), because the security of planting my thoughts in a shared reality is enough for me. I figure if my thoughts are here where everyone can read them, they must be real. The blogging thing is definitely about self-importance, but in my case that's a measurement of how much I should care about my thoughts, not everyone else. Blogging is, with rare exception, an egotistical pastime: that's why my name is everywhere, 'cause this shit is about me me me me me me me. Maybe sometimes it looks like it might be about something else. Nope. Me.

So here's my shit. If you don't like it, you can suck it. If you like it, you can suck it too, if you so desire. In conclusion, me.