“And yet,” you respond, “you’re blogging right now.”
You’re correct. I write in fits and starts because I find it therapeutic and I enjoy doing it. It’s a hobby. For the most part, it’s a harmless one.
But I miss blogging the way that I used to blog. By and large, the blogs were read only by friends and relatives. It was like Facebook posts but without the algorithmic manipulations or soulless ad tracking that digs into your phone like a virus.
I miss it.
I miss sharing some of my favorite memories about people I’ve lost and things I’ve done.
I also miss not caring about reactions to what I wrote. It sucks some fun out of things. Unless you’re shilling for something or talking about Darth Vader’s bodily functions, you’re risking some joyless chunk of protoplasm causing a problem over it.
Sure, the Internet doesn’t deserve all of my memories. But I liked to share them, and so I did. I removed a lot of them for various reasons. Some of them remain.
I removed blogs I wrote which were purposely provocative and caustic. A part of me wishes I hadn’t.
Anyway, I guess I’m writing this because I’m starting to write again. I mean, why not?
Also, so that I can fulfill the “shill” part: Listen to me on shows available on The Nerd Party.