200

Ah man!

It's my 200th blog. Well, not exactly. I messed up the days a bit out of an unspoken desire not to reach this point. Why is that, I find myself asking, am I that opposed to the penning of a diary? Clearly not. I've had this update planned since the first 100. My issue likely stems from the truth that this milestone marks the two hundredth day since I've started this little adventure and that hits with unexpected weight. I'm faced with a bevy of belittling questions; How much have I grown in that time, do I know what I want this Blog to be, do I even want it to be? Just as with the Christmas gone by and the approaching new year, I find little personally exciting about this celebratory times and that is a darn shame. By that as it may, I said I'd write an update so here it is.

Quick disclaimer: Once again this will be a blog within which I will discuss absolutely nothing related to the world of gaming and merely sink all of my time into rambling into the abyss. Until I overcome the nerves to go find someone to diagnose me with something prescribable, this is my only outlet of therapy so I would behoove you, reader person, to give me this. Additionally, this blog is being written in the dead of the night whilst I'm heavily intoxicated on rom-coms, so any lapse in spelling and/or coherence will likely go unedited. Also, this is going to be a huge stream of consciousness wherein I'm being as honest as I can be, so this'll defiantly stop making sense at some point. I feel like going into the process of editing will sacrifice some of that honesty so I'm making the active choice to not go back an alter this even when I'm feeling more in the mood, so that's where I am with that. That was your warning not to read this, now I shall resume.

When summing up the last 100 days of this blog I can't help but feel it all meld into one indescribable dirge. I wouldn't say that I'm exactly proud with the range of topics that I covered in that time, because I didn't nearly hit as many as I wanted to, more that I'm surprised in my own ability to procrastinate for over 100 days to get out one heavily researched article. That's right, I didn't put out one fact-driven blog all this time unless you count the Game Awards round-up. (And I most certainly do not.) It makes me feel like a total failure to look back, and looking forward I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to change things. It's not as though I fear the wrath of poor research, no one reads this blog anyway, I'm just scared of feeling to meet my own standards. An incredibly weird concept to admit as I wasn't entirely sure that I ever had standards to begin with.

On a more positive note, allowing this little hobby of mine to settle into habit has not negatively sunk into the other elements of my life as they have all gradually faded away. Whereas once there was a time that I would have to worry about the next weekend and ensuring that I had a blog ready for a day in which I could not dedicate my usual amount of time, I've been invited to less and less events allowing me to recede into blissful seclusion. I think I mentioned my natural shyness previously, but this arrangement suits me just fine even if it means that I sometimes go days without speaking to anyone at all. I remember some writer once saying that the greatest enemy to writing was being interrupted, so I guess that I'm on my way to tackling that great dragon in my own way.

On a note of personal development, I'm afraid matters that have been a far sight more stagnant. I'm still happiest when engrossed in escapism or writing (which for me is another form of escapism) but general responsibilities often drive me out that comfort zone and I don't always react well. I know, I know: being outside of one's comfortzone is a good thing, it encourages growth; but there's world of difference between acknowledging that fact and realizing it. I try to be sociable to the folk I meet in my everyday but they just end up being the worst people. I feel like I'm trying, and then they inevitable kick down at me for the most unknowable reasons. Perhaps I should try harder at making friends, afterall I'm very scant on those these days, but it's hard to do when you find yourself stuck in rooms full of personalities that you hate.

Even when writing these words I find myself reflecting on how unlike me it seems. I know that I jokingly personify a cynical approach in my general blog, but in truth I tend to be quite the staunch optimist even in the bleakest moments. Perhaps that comes from living in a lower class family of folk who all seem somewhat successful and happy; if a large family like mine can turn out all right, with half of them being third-generation immigrants and the other half being lower class, then why can't there be good fortunes everywhere? But I'm never happy, I've never proud of the work I put out, and I never feel like I deserve the things that I have. I feel like a parasite or a leech and long for the courage to pull myself off and away from everything and everyone else.

But here we are; it's the end of the decade and I'm out the otherside, still as clueless and anxious as I was when it started. (Okay, probably a lot more so, in truth.) It's in pensive moments like these that I find myself coming back to one question. The question in fact. The classic 'job interview' question that everyone knows so well that it's a cliche at this point. (Not that I'd know what other questions one could expect at an Interview; I've only endured a couple.) "Where do you see yourself in ten years." Honestly, even now my stomach lurches at the very thought. Where do I expect to be at this exact moment in 2029? I do not know and the idea sickens me to a visceral degree, I don't think I even want to still be around in that time. I almost hope that I'm not.

The other day I was strong-armed into picking up some alcohol at the shop, requiring the ol' ID check that folk my age undergo. (This is the shop that I've been going too for the last 10 years, manned by an assistant who I've know for just as long; but sure, check my ID, I'm not disgruntled...) It was actually with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment that I handed over my passport, and her surprised reaction at my age certainly didn't help. This is by no means the first time that I've become  aware of how frightened I am at the concept of growing older, but just the most anecdotal evidence that I currently have of that fact. When I think on it, I find I'm constantly asking myself; 'What am I hanging around for' (which sounds kinda pretentious to admit) and I'm never satisfied with my answer. Maybe I'm waiting for the day when I can say "Nothing", but I can't yet be honest with myself about what that exactly means.

At this point I think that I'm very much talking in circles so I'll just wrap things up be saying that I'm still doing this blogging thing for a few more weeks at least. I like how it feels for now but I've been a right hormonal sod these past few months so who knows where I'll be tomorrow. I might like the pressure right now and scream to be rid of it in a month, I suppose we'll see. I never suspected I'd make it to 200, and am practically certain that I won't make it to 300, so stay cautioned all those who bothered to read the rest of my drivel. On a pop culture note... I just watched and love the Mandolorian, struggling to start watching 'The Witcher', and I got Pokemon for Christmas and am currently grinding for a Shiny Magikarp. (By currently I mean; literally as I'm writing this.) Hope ya'll got something you wanted this Christmas and find something to look forward in the coming year, keep excited for your sake and mine, why don't ya. Ta.