Why is blogging such a fad?
I think it interesting that blogging seems to be such a fad at the moment. Everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame (or is it "I" that wants just fifteen more minutes of time...your time)...or could it be that memes are the culprits aspiring to fame? Is it feasible to entertain the notion, that blogging evolved from memes taking flight in a fit of virulence...the internet incubating the seeds, so as to enable the flight of mind and global dominance of the virus that is the mind...the synaptic endings of IP addresses emerging as a womb to the expansion of consciousness. Mutational strains of virus endeavouring to hold on to an existence, which may or may not have a half life of seconds or millennia?
(reality check) For me the past time of blogging, seems a natural extension to the journaling I've been doing over the last three years, offline...I think I questioned in one of my first posts whether I yearned for some sort of validation...for a sense of validation to my existence....I can't recall if I actually wrote it or thought it....I'm lazy so couldn't be bothered scouring through my previous posts to find out if I did indeed write it. What does it really matter anyway...I haven't received any validation one way or another, I am content just to enjoy the process of writing, regardless of any fame it may or may not provide. I confess, the idea that perhaps someone else may be reading something I have to say is appealing to my starved sense of worth. My ego wants to be heard. Alas, I have to concede that there are no echoes in this blogisphere, only quiet musings of a lonely man.
That is perhaps a lie...I am not so lonely, however when the quiet of night is resounding my heart beat I often wonder whether I am lonely and if this blog thing is mere distraction from feeling. I have learnt to feel the things I need to feel...That I can no longer run from feeling, as I used to do in a previous incarnation. Yet I am confronted in this dead sea of night whether I have found a new way to avoid feeling. To be honest this reflection is saddening...perhaps I have hit a nerve in my weary central nervous system. I often ponder the question of how personal should I endeavour to go in this public domain of information and thought. I guess the answer is solely up to me...Do I necessarily want to redeem the whole of my soul to public scrutiny and possible ridicule. Perhaps it matters not...I haven't a clue if anyone is even interested in the psuedo intellectualizations of an ordinary man doing ever so ordinary things. Perhaps there lies something of interest...some honesty at my own shortcomings. I am not really divulging any secrets...I am merely reflecting on thought and not giving anything too emotionally revealing...in essence only intellectualizing.
Besides I have other avenues where I can explore emotional tribulations, in a safer environment. Perhaps in time I may give more of myself but for now I will continue with diatribes of nothingness.
(reality check) For me the past time of blogging, seems a natural extension to the journaling I've been doing over the last three years, offline...I think I questioned in one of my first posts whether I yearned for some sort of validation...for a sense of validation to my existence....I can't recall if I actually wrote it or thought it....I'm lazy so couldn't be bothered scouring through my previous posts to find out if I did indeed write it. What does it really matter anyway...I haven't received any validation one way or another, I am content just to enjoy the process of writing, regardless of any fame it may or may not provide. I confess, the idea that perhaps someone else may be reading something I have to say is appealing to my starved sense of worth. My ego wants to be heard. Alas, I have to concede that there are no echoes in this blogisphere, only quiet musings of a lonely man.
That is perhaps a lie...I am not so lonely, however when the quiet of night is resounding my heart beat I often wonder whether I am lonely and if this blog thing is mere distraction from feeling. I have learnt to feel the things I need to feel...That I can no longer run from feeling, as I used to do in a previous incarnation. Yet I am confronted in this dead sea of night whether I have found a new way to avoid feeling. To be honest this reflection is saddening...perhaps I have hit a nerve in my weary central nervous system. I often ponder the question of how personal should I endeavour to go in this public domain of information and thought. I guess the answer is solely up to me...Do I necessarily want to redeem the whole of my soul to public scrutiny and possible ridicule. Perhaps it matters not...I haven't a clue if anyone is even interested in the psuedo intellectualizations of an ordinary man doing ever so ordinary things. Perhaps there lies something of interest...some honesty at my own shortcomings. I am not really divulging any secrets...I am merely reflecting on thought and not giving anything too emotionally revealing...in essence only intellectualizing.
Besides I have other avenues where I can explore emotional tribulations, in a safer environment. Perhaps in time I may give more of myself but for now I will continue with diatribes of nothingness.
posted by TwistedTripper at 9:40 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home