There are so many people reading these words now that if you put your hand against the screen, I can promise you, no matter what time it is, no matter where you are, someone else who feels the same is doing it too.
Confession: Sometimes, I get hurt when there aren’t comments on my blogs.
I began blogging 6 years ago…First on LJ and then Myspace. Those two places had one thing in common: Interaction.
I crave it. That’s why I try to end blogs with questions. I encourage the people who comment to interact with EACH OTHER.
Ideas intrigue me. Thoughts fuel me. Feelings inspire me.
I like to inspire. I like to remind people to laugh. Smile. Remember. Recognize. Feel. Love.
So I don’t have 792 readers. So I don’t get a thousand hits a day. So I don’t get emails asking me for advice.
I write because it’s my oxygen.
When I’m having a bad day, I might be more sensitive than usual to the lack of comments but it doesn’t stop me from writing. I might whine to a friend or 2 (or 5) but at the end of the day, if I don’t write, I am the one that suffocates.
And yes, I do write out everything. I do have my heart on my sleeve. I do blurt out whatever’s going through my head because I don’t want it to fester. Because at the end of the day, I’m the one that wonders.
So I throw the words out there. You either catch them or ignore them. My feelings will always belong to me. Just because I expose them to the world doesn’t mean it gives anyone the right to try to play with them…but I know you try. And that’s OK.
“It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.” – Erma Bombeck
Just remember that I re-wrote the rules to the game. And whether it’s on my blog or in conversation, I choose to share myself with you…and as much as I might have my heart broken once in a while…
I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
But it’s not for everyone. And if it’s not for you, kudos to you for bowing out when you need the break instead of spewing out shit just for the sake of it.
The blogging world goes on.
So you look for patterns because that’s what humans do to try and make sense of things. In hope of some divine order. And you look in movies and songs and the things that you read for symbols, points and swirls that match your own. But the only real pattern there is, is the one you make when you hold up a mirror. And reflect.