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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.
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Bibliography
The Great Little Hunter
Pinspired Philippines, 2022
The Boy The Girl
The Rat The Rabbit
and the Last Magic Days
Chapbook, 2018
Republic of Carnage:
Three Horror Stories
For the Way We Live Now
Chapbook, 2018
Bamboo Girls:
Stories and Poems
From a Forgotten Life
Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2018
Don't Tell Anyone:
Literary Smut
With Shakira Andrea Sison
Pride Press / Anvil Publishing, 2017
Cupful of Anger,
Bottle Full of Smoke:
The Stories of
Jose V. Montebon Jr.
Silliman Writers Series, 2017
First Sight of Snow
and Other Stories
Encounters Chapbook Series
Et Al Books, 2014
Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop
Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Handulantaw: Celebrating 50 Years of Culture and the Arts in Silliman
Tao Foundation and Silliman University Cultural Affairs Committee, 2013
Inday Goes About Her Day
Locsin Books, 2012
Beautiful Accidents: Stories
University of the Philippines Press, 2011
Heartbreak & Magic: Stories of Fantasy and Horror
Anvil, 2011
Old Movies and Other Stories
National Commission for Culture
and the Arts, 2006
FutureShock Prose: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures
Sands and Coral, 2003
Nominated for Best Anthology
2004 National Book Awards
Follow the Spy
Recent Crumbs
Blogs I Read
© 2002-2021
IAN ROSALES CASOCOT
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
12:18 PM |
Tell Me About the Other Sides of Life
There are many things in life one does not blog about. Which begs the question:
For whom do we blog? For ourselves? Or for the rest of the online world? This is supposed to be my journal, a very important part of myself because blogging allows me to weigh the ideas I have, or the stories I need to tell, complete with that welcome mechanism of instant feedback from my audience of two (or three) -- but the public nature of blogging, I know, basically censors my tendencies to complain, to be snide about things, to be graphic about adventures nobody talks about in polite society. And yet, despite that, I still pursue this very public of exercises. And often for the strangest reasons, too.
Moments, Merely once said that conventional blogging has become an embarassing and blah ritual of personal angst openly displayed.
Which is true: I barely blog about my happy moments; I barely even blog about my adventures, about my "exciting" (
hahaha) offline life. I find that I blog only when I am alone, when I am deep in thought, when I am troubled. But also when I have something exciting to share. (Which is why you should read
Dean's
take on blogging over at
Our Own Voice.) I guess this whole thing has become my proxy for formal therapy, with the entire world as my psychiatrist. Sometimes, I think, I do this from some primal urge to live in a glass house. Maybe I like being the object of voyeurism. Maybe I am just full of myself. Maybe...
Should I stop blogging?Nah, I've tried that before, and always I find myself coming back like moth to flame. Like Cheshire Cat's dilemma (whose new link I can't share --
she made me promise!), blogging has become its own fascinating addiction.
So welcome to my world. Just don't mind me if I go around this space like a cocky peacock, preening myself. It's my space, after all.
Labels: blogging
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