My blog is my open letter to the world. It’s an email to everyone. It’s here for you to read at your leisure, or not. Yeah, I check the stats. But much less than I tell you I do, to be honest. I pretend to care about the comments, or lack thereof, but my (private) livejournal feed gets comments and discussion and when I really need to unload something personal and don’t want to send it down the entire system of tubes I can go over there and just make a semi-private entry, which is what I’ve done the last few days.
My point? I write and then it’s out there. I’m in pain and I write. I take a picture and I post it. I want a record of something so I put it here. I feel inspired so I record it. At times my brain is over-full of bullshit and I spill it out onto the screen and here is where it ends up.
Occasionally I write a ranting raving letter to the editor of the paper and it ends up in my blog instead. Because most of the time what I’m writing? Is just about me writing it and nothing more. I might hope for someone to come along and see it but I don’t care about managing that.
The letters are for me, and are more about what I’m saying and not what I need someone else to hear. That’s how I decide what belongs in a letter vs what belongs in a blog post. In a letter, I ask and answer questions. In a blog post, I pontificate.
That might be how this blog was born, as a matter of fact- out of a simple need to be heard, and an instinct that the people around me were tired of listening to me talk and/or reading my manifesto style letters and emails. At least this way my friends can fib (”uh yeah, I’m pretty sure I did read that one!”) or catch up quickly while on the phone with me like my brother does (”hey! you had another baby? when did you build a house?”) and I will never know the difference.
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