It started with boredom coupled with an infinite urge to blab. That's the basic formula of Literary Bulimia which is evident in the first posts that littered this corner of the web when it started in January 2006. Back then, it was merely a trendy and easy way to freely express personal rants and angst for the rest of the uninterested online world to see.
Thankfully, together with yours truly, the blog has evolved over time. From mindless word vomit, it has gradually moved on to less crappy accounts of random thoughts, everyday life, emotional breakdowns, occasional travel stories, fashion talk, countless haphazard pursuits at love, and other personal experiences that I may or may not regret sharing later on. But that's the point of this blog. It serves as an outlet for my tendency to yap about pretty much everything. It's a good way to document my life and allows me too look back and ponder what I was able to do with it. Also, it helps in preserving and hopefully improving my highly questionable "writing touch".
Seriously though, no matter how petty or significant, this online journal represents a great part of me. Literary Bulimia contains my skeletons, reminding me of mistakes I should learn from; it is a shrine of whatever accomplishments I have earned; it is a diary that contains things many of my friends don't even know about; it serves as a mirror reflecting the person I have become; and it is my baby which will continue to change and grow.
