I try to write my blog every day or at least post some little tidbit that seems to best reflect my life or predicament, albeit a fragment of its existence. Now, there is a ticker here on the page that tells me how many hits/ visitors there have been and frankly, it just astounds me. The numbers just seem to soar and I just sit and gape at the new figures every day. I am seriously in awe of that . I mean, here I am, not what an avid blogger might call an avid blogger, but people come here to read and know what is going on with me, in my life, through my head.
Today I stared out of the window at lunchtime sitting alone in the room (the window now looks out to a pretty but appallingly near-perfect garden. It once used to look out at a dump so I suppose I ought to be grateful for these small gifts) and wondered how my self-absorbed views of life, love, loss and all that sort of mental meandering can mean anything to anyone. I read other people’s blogs quite regularly (I am of the lurker variety, so I very rarely leave comments etc. ) and there are a few that I am terribly and deeply moved by. Some make me smile, some are pretty dull. Sorry! But I honestly don’t see the interest factor in shopping for bean sprouts. I know, selfish. But I promise you, if you stop reading my blog because I start writing about banal vegetables I will not blame you. Note that I said banal, therefore a refreshing , one-sided conversation on baby cucumbers, say, might pass… I digressed.
These are my archives of failure and success. My cathartic column of regret and realisation. These pages are records of my every days, not as I necessarily live it out in the open, but far deeper- the way I live it within the recesses of my head that works at breakneck speed despite my desperate efforts to keep it calm, or my wild panic-struck psyche…
Why do you read me? Why do you come back? What do you come back for? What do you expect or want to see on these pages? What is it I give you? What is it you need and how can I nourish that?
Who are you?
Talk to me. Tell me who you are, what you do, what makes you wake up each day and get out there (don’t say alarm clock)? What pulls you down? What picks you back up and makes you go on?
What are the words you live to hear? What the ones you have hidden from for what seems, all your life? Who are the people who surround your days, your dreams?
Is your pain like mine? Is your passion?
Do you like the same things I do? The same kind of music? My taste in shoes 😉
All this questioning has given me an idea… BRB.