It's a funny thing

I don't know what to write. All I know is that I want to.
What do you write about when words are eluding you like you have some type of sickness they don't want to catch? I'm not really sure. I guess that's why I'm writing about not knowing what to write.

I've been reintroduced to some websites tonight that used to be a big part of my life. Such constants in my life that basically every night they were open in my browser. A friend said that nostalgia is a funny thing, because it makes you both sad and happy, and I guess that's what looking at these websites is doing for me now. Making me both sad and happy. Sad, because of the fact that that part of my life is so far in the past. That life flies by without you even realizing it, and some things you leave behind don't keep moving with you.

One of the websites, onesentence.org, shut down over a year ago. When I opened the page, its immediate message was, "In one sentence: After nine years, I've decided to shut down One Sentence." It made me sad because this website was such a part of my primary writing days, it was a staple to my every day creativity. And in all the years I neglected to click onto it, it was shut down. Now, here I am, feeling like I didn't get a chance to grieve for it, as silly as that may seem. No more stories will be published on that page in one sentence clips for me to read and feel. No more of my own stories will be sparked by new entries from that website. It was a sad feeling to think I couldn't come back to this website after 5-6 years and have it be sitting there waiting for me. The following feeling isn't necessarily a bad or good one, but it was strange to realize that life really does keep moving and changing, regardless of what's happening in mine. My life is not the only important thing on earth. My problems are not the only problems. My accomplishments are not the only successes. My life is not the only life. The man who created this website has his own, and for many reasons that happened in his, he stopped this website. And here I am thinking selfishly... like I have a right to be sad or angry that this site wasn't eagerly awaiting my return.

The other website still was up, however. (oneword.com) Probably not eagerly waiting for me, but was very welcoming to me nonetheless. Same layout, same concept, same everything. Like a blast from the past. You click a button, a word pops up, and you have 60 seconds to write about the word. Anything that comes into your mind, Unedited and uninhibited writing for 60 whole seconds (which, contrary to my belief, feels much shorter than expected). Even though this website was still up and running, I still felt sad for some reason. Like, even though I was gone for 5-6 years, the website kept going, so clearly my small submissions back then were not as important to it as they were to me. How dare they.

Seeing the websites made me happy, too, though. Like, the internet gives me the opportunity to reach these websites whenever (even if no new submissions are being posted to them, I can still see all the old ones) as if I'm jumping back into those late writing nights five years ago. It's so nice to look back on these and feel those feelings I used to get. That writing is a universal language. A way for people to express themselves, even if in only one sentence or only for 60 seconds chunks. And I was a part of that and I get to look back on that and remember all those great nights spent awake writing on these sites instead of sleeping. All the stories shared and swapped between a friend that I'll always keep with me. I get to relive that now, 5 years later, another late night where I'm kept up writing.

Nostalgia is a funny thing. Looking back to myself five years ago and all those nights, I miss it. I miss the memories. But do I really? Were those times any more enjoyable while they were being lived or are they more glorified in my mind because they're just that: memories? It's hard for us to tell what exactly it is that nostalgia makes us feel, that's why I feel it's such a hit or miss emotion with most people. Most of the time you're sad for what is in the past, but shouldn't we instead be grateful and happy that the memories were great enough for us to still carry with us to this day?

In this case, I think I should be grateful to the nostalgia. I began this post with nothing but empty thoughts sitting in my head, and look where I am now: an entire blog post vomited from the inner workings of my "empty thoughtless" brain. Any opportunity to write and put words and thoughts and emotions out into the universe is a fully seized opportunity if you ask me.

Thanks, nostalgia.
xo M