Sounding stupid

Everytime, for the past week or so, that I've tried to update this blog, I end up not doing it. I deem whatever I was thinking no worth writing about or worry that were I to read it in the future, I would appear stupid. Today, I decided to go back and perform the now-typical masochistic act of reading old blog entries. Like really old. I went to read my Xanga.

At first it was painful, realizing how stupid you could sound. The more I think about it, though, the more I realize I was actually pretty typical. I liked bad music (still do), I wrote bad poetry that progressed to sorta bad poetry, and I had an ideological bent with religion and modern art. My reasons were always very extreme -- "Best movie ever!" -- and I was actually a pretty bad speller. I was pretty much an average, loud-mouth high schooler with plenty of recycled opinions and a few of my own. And among the many lists of bullshit, because prioritizing and reprioritizing your life or figuring out 5 things to do with your life is always amusing, one caught my eye: "I wish I could watch movies for a living."

It made me smile reading that. It's something I've been saying lately, and it wasn't part of remembering some mantra from adolescence. I thought it was something fairly recent, this resurgence of movie watching. It was nice to find that parallel, to see that this really is something that I have loved for a long time.

I really was out to find evidence that I'm more dumb than not, but my old posts did make me laugh a little bit and cringe a lot. But so do old pictures of hairdos. Kids like ranting and pontificating about big ideas. The most troubling thing I read was a post from when I was really depressed. It was just this monstrous rambling diatribe that was a big plea for help. Nothing about it sounded stupid.