Wow, this blog was once young and aimless.
But it’s older now!
The focus has shifted and changed, and so has the name (a few times).
I had many harebrained ideas back in 2009 when this digital fiesta began. The original name, “Phoenixism,” alluded to my original vision which was that this blog would be a vehicle of personal re-awakening (especially in light of my car accident in 2005) and all writing would be structured around this process of personal evolution in my life.
One such “change of process” involved that of me cleaning my apartment from the ground up.
This apartment, which I’ve lived in since 2004, had descended into a frightful nightmare of disarray and chaos. I had gone through a period of time in the early thousands where I, frankly, had encountered a spell of trauma-induced “hoardism” and which, having left such lunacy behind a few years previous, nevertheless left me to deal with the aftermath (tons of papers and crap stored in my closets). I even began a series of posts highlighting this mission that involved me cleaning up the mess in this apartment, the scene of great messiness that epitomized the madness that defined my life through 2005-2006. I wrote a series of photo-posts that detailed this task and my halting march. I started with much ambition and petered out with much disinterest…such is my life.
One installment of this involved the cleaning of my living room closet; the clean-up went well, except that after I was “done,” it turned out I had merely shifted the contents into the floor in my bedroom. In other words, I didn’t clean anything; I merely moved crap around.
I was left with a clean closet but a new addition to my bedroom:
These were the contents of the closet that I had no urge to deal with in all sincerity. So they sat in my bedroom for years in the state they appear here. It wasn’t until recently that I finally tackled this mess. Certain things have prompted me to address this at last. In the act of cleaning up such old stacks and bags, it’s inevitable that certain “historic” flotsam and jetsam must surface; crap I had forgotten about, and maybe, should have. Some things should never be reawakened or re-conjured.
For instance, I found a journal I received as a gift in 1995; for Christmas, I’m guessing.
I dutifully recorded in it from December, 30, through April or May of the following year. This was a period of time that I lived in Hollywood and my life was undergoing a sea-change of transformations of the mental and social sort. The early to mid 90’s were a period of great upheaval in my life, and as I read the journal, it struck me how my tone, and many of my observations are similar to my thoughts now and how much this blog, in its current format, is the heir to this journal.
I think the most surprising thing is how shielded my self-revelations have been for 20 years only to be supposedly unleashed with this blog. That shit has always been bottled up in this little head of mine. I am nothing new. But yet…I am. I am a changed man.
I foresee a new blog project, one modeled on my 20-year-old journal. It will be apolitical and unconcerned with current events. A purely philosophical perambulation of my soul.
What will this monster look like?
What will it be called?
Perhaps “12/30/1995” is the most fitting name for such a blog, ever.