You know, I usually read political blogs, and this blog is pretty much a political blog, too. I do it to practice writing; I do it because I’m genuinely concerned about the world around me; I do it to kill time.
But it sometimes escapes me that there are people out there who blog about well, themselves. Their life . Their innermost thoughts. Their blogs are like personal diaries, except there’s no lock and key. It’s published, fer Chrissakes.
See, here’s what happened. Someone named "SAS" left a comment to a post I wrote. Out of curiosity (you mean someone actually reads this blog?!?), I followed SAS’s link, and found myself here. Man, there really are a lot of interesting stories and people in this world.
Not that there’s anything truly remarkable about SAS. She’s a normally neurotic single person dealing with life’s tragedies, life’s joys, and life’s confusions. And, you know . . . stuff. Like me. Like, I suspect, everybody.
But the thing is that it’s all out there, presented in some tiny corner (her corner) of the information superhighway. The doubts, the triumphs, the fears, the joys, the losses — all for anyone to see.
Some might think that is egotistical. Maybe, but . . . well, no. It’s not. It’s courageous, that’s what it is. I confess to feeling a little envious, and it causes me to wonder if I should be making better use of my blog time writing about — you know — the stuff of life. Do I write about the political and cultural world to avoid writing about the inner world? Should I be doing something different? Do I even have a life?
Alas, that’s not me. I’m an enigma — even to myself — and content to remain one — even to myself. But it is reassuring to see blogs like hers, and be reminded that the entire world is probably made up of people who, to paraphrase SAS, feel like they are "one step behind everybody else" sometimes. Obviously, if we all feel that way, then nobody is one step behind everyone else.
One thing’s for sure — I need to surf the blog highway more.
So what’s the point of this post? Beats me. Just felt like typing something. What the hell are you going to do about it?