Drivel

I love reading blogs written by foreigners—of any nationality—that reside in this country. Usually, they are full of pointless bullshit copied and pasted from Wikipedia or Lonely Planet (and word for word at that), ridiculous comparisons and full of preposterous vocabulary mixing that vexes me to no end—whilst also making me wonder how they can criticize the average Indonesians’ English skills.

Anyway, for once, I actually read a blog that I can honestly say I enjoyed. Now, it’s not that I don’t enjoy the occasional blog, but most of them just aren’t that well written. Not that I feel superior or anything as mine probably isn’t that good—but just to be fair, I don’t put that much thought or effort into it—but it’s just nice to come across some true feelings that are properly put together into something logical and entertaining.

Honestly, I could post links to so many shit-filled blogs it would make your head spin. So, why do I read them? Well, quite honestly, I get bored. When I’m at work or at home and have nothing else to do, I read. I figure, hey, I might as well read about where I am, see what other people are experiencing and what not. It sure as shit beats watching TV or wasting my time and money at the mall that’s for sure.

But, I don’t write like that and truthfully, I usually find it incredibly boring. However, for some reason, reading naïve, pretentious blogs written by young, soul-searching, wannabie hippies on a gap year is just thoroughly engaging. Not that they’re all hippies, but you get my point. Why I don’t fancy reading curse-laden tirades like mine is beyond me. I guess it’s true that opposites attract.

I’m not sure what it is about seeing someone document every waking minute of his or her day with precise detail that makes me laugh, but it does. Giving exact totals (currency conversions as well!), temperatures, piss poor translations and the like; it’s all just par for the course. Fuck me, it’s just funny! I always think to myself, “Who reads this shit?” but then I tell myself, “You are, dumbass!” Eh, the whole cycle is comical I guess—to someone at least.

I’ve got nothing interesting or engaging to say about Indonesia or the city I live in unless you enjoy rants and curse words. I don’t feel the need to write about buying fruit, eating, driving around, shopping or going to the beach. Man, all that shit is normal, day-to-day life. Is it really that different anywhere in the world? Eh, no. Everybody eats, sleeps, breathes and exists—we just do it in different places and have different tastes.

But then again, who knows? Maybe I’ll give it a go and see how I feel. It could quite possibly be cathartic in some way. Not that I need any more catharsis than I already have, but anyway. So, I’m going to go have a cup of coffee (price unknown but definitely insignificant), have a smoke (same), chat a bit (free), hopefully score some food (maybe free), sweat (OMG, cause it’s like really, really hot outside!) and fuck around (free as well) before I get to go home by motorcycle (sort of free). Eh, actually, this isn’t working.