Since starting this blog, I have come up with a few conclusions about the blogging world. It consists of many bathroom breaks to make up for the lack of exercise, writing, checking the fridge, writing, and avoiding the Sun. I started writing when I was in First Grade, with my first essay being about my dream to travel to “Paris and Europe to walk the campgrounds.” As I progressed in elementary school, I wrote poetry and kept journals, mostly as a way to express my joy and vent my “frustrations.”
In 4th grade, my mom bought me a copy of The Diary of Anne Frank which completely changed the way I wrote in my diary and (secret) Xanga. I realized that Anne Frank probably did not know when she was writing in her diary that people in the year 2013 would be quoting her. She is the reason why I was careful not to write in my diary about school crushes or arguments with my parents because there was a small hope within me that my diary will someday be a time capsule. Perhaps I was a fool to believe that, but it made my journal entries more well written, hilarious, and honestly naive. Although I thought myself as a 10-year-old with a thousand affectations, I was convinced that I would be a writer.
When high school arrived, I lost myself in the world of selfies and sitting at cafeteria tables exchanging banalities. Then in college I spent my first year “UNDECLARED” but eventually majoring in Economics. Many people begin studying Economics to eventually be welcomed at the gates of Wall Street, but I believed that it would be a gateway to…frankly, I’m still figuring that out.
One theory (out of a multitude) that I did learn this year from my Econ class was the “Greater Fool.” It is the theory that a person would make a risky investment with the assumption that there will be a greater fool who will be willing to buy into it at a higher price. In simpler terms as Aaron Sorkin explained it in The Newsroom, “It’s a patsy. For the rest of us to profit, we need a greater fool, someone who will buy long and sell short.” Perhaps I am the greater fool for starting a blog with the belief that I will attract readers to my site. Perhaps the readers of this blog are the greater fool for buying into something that is not even valuable in the first place…but eventually will be.
The other day, I uncovered one of my many old diaries that I wrote in when I was at the great age of 10. I read from it aloud because, like Shakespeare, my literary works are always better understood when spoken. I started to recite the first few sentences, but then I immediately stopped when I started laughing and crying out of embarrassment. Its as if I was reading something by a completely different person. When I finally finished reading, I discovered that I found more joy reading my old diary than any of my other attempts of written work at my current age, but maybe I’m being too hard on myself.
“You should have been there! OH! It was wonderful! Speaking in front of everybody– AGAIN!…While walking down the staircase I almost had a heart attack because my heart was beating fast. I skipped [two] steps and I almost tripped…Now, when I remembered this morning that I might, MIGHT!, talk on the lectern, I didn’t calm down!!!…I kept on smiling [on the lectern] and was about to laugh but I covered it with a cough in the microphone!”
I want to feel that way every time I read something written by myself, and I hope you do too.