And the flash of steel from real buns, in real life, really fills my mind.

Dear Susie,

One time I fell in love. With a girl. Over the internet.
After several very long chats, she linked me to some site, I think it was diary-x or something, I'm pretty sure it's not running anymore. Anyway, what I found was this enormous list of 117ish blog entries next to a picture of Bjork, and I read them all, and there was poetry, and little life vignettes, and little thought excercises, and it was so beautiful. And something that I just realised recently is that it may/would have been far less beautiful and cathartic if there were comments ... you know like "Oh, I quite like this one" "Thanks! I thought it was kinda crap.." or whatever.
I have friends with blogs, and it occasionally seems like they get bogged down in the comment-counting kinda rut, and a little dissuaded to continue or put in the same effort. But the thing is, people don't always comment if they like or love a blog post - it's just not what I think I wanna use as a barometer for success. Also, having comments enabled and like, actively awaiting comments I think may put pressure on the reader, perhaps diminishing their overall blog experience.
This is waaay too long.
The point is, turning comments off will make you feel like you're actually doing it what you wanna do, cause you want to.
Oh, what happened with the girl, you ask? Well I moved to Sydney to live with her and around a year later we broke up, I moved back in with the parents in Wangaratta, and then to Melbourne cause it seemed like a nice place and I wanted to start a band.

I hope you get some kinda enjoyment from the album. :)
I don't know why I keep coming back to that record. Lead guy Doug is kinda faceless, but also kinda compelling.

What I like about your blog is that, well, you're from Horsham living in Melbourne, and I instantly relate to other kids from the sticks. It's a strange ... thing ... to move to a city ... Idunno.

So I just realised that without comments enabled, you can't reply to this at all. Maybe this should've been a reply.
Oh god. Too late now.

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