I have to admit, I'm impressed with the voluminous amount of blogs that individuals post on a daily basis. I, myself, had such high expectations when I first began putting my words to the web, but after much consideration and the occasional shrug of my shoulders, I resided myself to the fact that I'll write something whenever I bloody well feel like it. Nyah!
But this again gets me thinking, "Just who are these people that blog every day, and who do they think they are?" I mean, other than the posts by journalists and the avant- garde/neo-political/edgy bloggers who's really reading the stuff that's out there? Friends of the writers? Daily aquaintances that would hear the writer's opinions at the water cooler anyway? Net enabled dogs and cats? Who?
Take me for instance. I might have something interesting to say, or I may perhaps have a quip that's so witty I feel inclined to share it with the entire online world, but so what! What makes me so special that my ego actually thinks what I have to say makes any difference? And more importantly, who's reading this to tell me so? (other than, of course, my friends and cats)
That's why I find it so amazing that there are people out there who actually center their lives around the daily posting of the trivialities of their lives. Maybe they feel that they are establishing themselves as creative writers? Or maybe they believe that the gigabytes of storage being devoted to host their ongoing autobiography is essential to uphold the thermodynamic principle of entropy? Or perhaps still, maybe their hopes are that in a million years someone will unzip the digital archives of their lives and find some important, little tidbit which will answer the eternal question.........
"Ah, Mary Jones chose this day, July 19, 2005 to ride the bus to work as opposed to driving her gas-guzzling suv. This selfless act set in motion the changing tide of human existence and forever altered the reality of the species. Amazing, that she had the foresight to document this event, and establish in the annals of her race this key event which led to our discovery of the meaning of life."
So why do it? Why spend countless hours clicking away at the keyboard at such a futile and insignificant endeavor? And why would someone so cynical as myself subscribe to any part of it?
Hmmmmm..............................
Apparently no one is there to respond. How odd.
I suppose I'll offer my own response, then if someone reads my post in a million years, they can contemplate their own opinion and wonder if my corporeal spirit will be around to witness it.
So my compelling thought is that this type of journal writing is cathartic. A bit more voyeuristic than the traditional diary writing, but therapeutic just the same. It affords people to be expressive and daring all at the same time, much like driving at rush hour but without all the greenhouse gases. I guess that's why I do it. Not because what I have to say is profound, 'cause let's be honest, there are no revelations in my commentary. But because I tend to feel a little better about myself after I've posted something.
So I suppose the greater question is, "If everyone else shares this ideal on blogging as medicine, then how fucked up must the people in the world be that they need this little digital pill on a daily basis?"
I'd respond again , but I'd prefer to ride out the blogging high I'm currently on.
