I Always Come Back

But no one reads this shit.

I spent the past few minutes reading the two lone significant posts I had made a few years ago, and right now, I'm virtually facepalming at the things I wrote. It was a nice dose of nostalgia for the most part, though I'm still curious as to why I chose to write about pacifiers, tiny fires, and other irrelevant details of my life. Or, of what was my life.

I want to start doing something again. I want to blog, but I don't think people read anymore. I've gotten addicted to YouTube vloggers recently, and I can't help but think that it would be the coolest thing ever to join the ranks of the virtual celebrities. The problem is, though, that I only have a webcam to start with. Hey, Ray William Johnson started out with a webcam while he was at Columbia, and look at where he is now! He's the most subscribed on YouTube! I bet even Shane Dawson, Smosh, and Meekakitty started out small and worked their way to the top.

I don't know. A Twitter account would be nice, too. I made one three years ago, but I deactivated it for some reason. But hey, if I could get holla-backs from my favorite vloggers/bloggers/people/robots, life would rock.

Eh. I'll catch you trolls later.