A bad case of writer’s blog
I have to say, it’s not always easy to think up ideas for a blog. Which is strange for me, considering that blogs are merely made up of words, and words are an integral part of my daily fare.
Blogs are also a form of self-expression; the electronic version of carving one’s initials into the bark of a tree. “I was here, this is me.”
And we wonder, who will read it? Who will choose to follow this particular strand of the worldwide web, and end up face to face with a little part of me? Or we worry, what if no one reads it at all? Then the words we spend so much time planning carry little more significance than a guttering candle lost against the vastness of a starry night.
It’s a strange form of communication: a definite ’sender’ speaking out, despite the possibility that there will never be a ‘receiver’ on the other end of the message.
How many of us are aware that most of the time we are probably only writing to ourselves? But we do it anyway. We write anyway. We link the words together; we fluff up a concept; we try to be wise, helpful, funny, different.
We want to be heard, so we find something to say.