Pimping Third Sis’ blog(s), for all the lost twenty-something souls.

This is one of those rare moments when Real Life intersects with this space, enough to oust my identity. I’m kind of nervous. I’m second-guessing myself now.

We are as different as night and day; yin and yang; light and shadows – yet on occasion, shades of gray appears.

I write, and she does too.

Our writing style is so, so different and funnily, while I am the one with all the passion, she’s the one with all the talent. I take forever and a day to articulate my point, while she’s concise and eloquent. I am melancholic and so full of nostalgia bullshit, while her modus operandi is full of dry humor and satire. I am anal when it comes to formatting, while she cares little about it – case in point, she doesn’t bother with capitalizing words!

We are as different in-person as we are in our writing, trust me.

Lately though, I’ve been hanging around her spaces, screen capping and occasionally even weeping; this twenty-something existential crisis is so difficult, and you don’t know how many times I have questioned and wondered – why, just why, can’t I be a simpler person? Why can’t I turn off this mind, quit the over-thinking?

some people don’t like to talk big things. they do whatever it takes to not discuss religion or politics, to be a universal culture lover, to stand forever on neutral grounds, to love all that everybody loves, to condemn all that everybody condemns, to keep their heavy opinions to themselves, to not ever spark any sensitive shenanigans, to go for pop culture, to praise hello kitty as a joy giver, to build a movement with only cupcake lovers are qualified for membership, to be somebody that big-things talker can’t relate to -no matter how much each other try.

sometimes i wish i was one of those people.

Strange. Over at her space, sometime in August 2013 – she expressed it exactly.

By right, our writing worlds shouldn’t collide. I believe so, at least. I prefer anonymity, whatever portion I can still salvage while I still can, but she doesn’t really give two hoots about it – social media is her thing, it always has been. By right, these two spaces shouldn’t collide. It’s… weird? Unexpectedly strange, if you get what I mean. We’ve been different all our lives.

But lately… I have found comfort and ease through her written words, even if they were written as far back as 2012. I don’t know if she even remembers, ha. It’s strange but comforting, reading someone else’s twenty-something existential, identity crisis confessions. It’s so, so hard – I’ve no other words for this phase.

So tonight I decided – her spaces are too good not to share. Trust me.

My moniker’s always been jandoe – based on the idea of anonymity, geddit? – while she’s always been pinknerd, a play-of-word almost, because it’s a total contrast to the real person. I told ya we’re different. She doesn’t write as often on her blog as I do here on mine, but on occasion she pops back there and churns something out. For the record, I don’t think we can ever collaborate and write a piece together; I’m not sure how that works, and if it will, because our writing voices are so distinct.

You can peel her onions in the now-defunct onionsoul which is my treasure mine and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch her at onionso(u)ldier.

I hope you get what I mean once you’ve given her pieces a try; this isn’t pimping for pure pimping, because we’re sisters. Please, not even.

For all the twenty-something lost souls, my kindred spirits – I hope you find ease, too.


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