So… I blog. I do it for many reasons. I enjoy the idea of putting myself out there. I feel like I reveal a piece of myself in every word and letter I write.
I also write more than I blog. I wrote a 6 page essay about 2013 on this past New Years Eve. It was a strong analysis of Bastille’s song “Pompeii” and the lyrical and musical significance of ti that reflected the power and amazement of 2013. I regularly write about a thousand words on a topic and then decide that it’s either not worth posting or a pound of flesh that is a little too close to the heart.
Combined it gives me the freedom and validation to feel like I am living my life in the public light and allowing the world to judge. Sure, there is some censorship. And certainly tons of name changing. And I avoid talking about people who claim spots on my shit list (which I actively maintain at no more than 3 people. It’s been at 2 since I forgave that woman for accepting my marriage proposal and everything that followed). But in general, I have no problem telling all of you internet strangers about my mushy gushy meshuga heart. I even link some articles from facebook so that random people who know me in real life are invited to judge those aspects of my innards and browse the rest.
It’s also pretty cool that I get statistics about people reading different articles and the ability for people to occasionally click like and subscribe for updates. It is rewarding when people do so, but it is only a small piece of the motivation.
In large part I blog for the chemicals it releases in my brain that make my heart beat a little stronger and faster. I’m selfish like that. But I also feel like I am building a huge resource for the next Mrs. Manmadeoceans.Seriously, if the next girl I’m with cannot accept the fact that I am a helpless romantic with ADHD that has gone absolutely systemic, it’s better that she read this article and run for the hills. I am passionate. I am intense. I am Intensely passionate. Or oblivious. I may not notice something, and it is not because I don’t love you honey. I wrote this for you. I don’t even know who you are as I sit here writing this, but I am sorry for all the ways in which that piece of me will fail you. I have tried to fix it and am trying to fix it and I may even think I’ve fixed it before our lips first meet, but at some point I will fail. And in that moment, I hope you come here and read this post
I am also fiercely loyal and fraternal. I think that comes through in my writing. It makes me feel good when I get to display these traits. It makes me feel amazing to speak of the amazing people I know and have known in my trips around the sun. It is one of the greatest pick-me-ups to read through some of my posts and uncover the subtle dual meanings that naturally occur all the time. Most importantly is the ability to link sentences into arbitrary paragraphs. Sometimes two paragraphs have one point and sometimes one paragraph has three points.
Yet, rarely do I exploit this joyous treat to make a point and divide a single idea into multiple paragraphs abruptly. So although it does represent poor form, I use it to make my tone conversational. It is not accidental or intentional, but somewhere between. It is comfortable.
As I sit here, melting, I am going to close this post with one last reason and draw it all together into a conclusion that few people will have read all the way to. I talk too quickly and have an extranumerary tooth that my tongue constantly hits. This was never a problem until I met Jeannette and have been filled with this desire to be known. Writing gives me a buffer and lets my words breathe. For the first time in my life I feel like I have a lisp, but it really is only because I am slowing down my speech and speaking more. So in the interim, at least, writing gives me a voice that feels rich and comfortable.
So, to draw it all together, I guess you’d say that this is a post about why I blog. I was originally going to pose a question to a fellow blogger. That is where I was headed when I started. I guess that will happen tomorrow. I should go back and edit this and trim it and make it fit and proper, but after re-reading it, I think this post is just as it should be. When people say “use your inside voice,” I wonder if they would be terrified to hear my inside voice, but now you have. I promise to provide more composition in future posts.