I blog. Therefore I am.
Well, as of today I blog.
What does that even mean? It’s not even a word. Webster hasn’t put it in its lexicon yet. <----- To blog or not to blog,
that
is
the
question?
W come so quickly
O now that I don’t need a pen and a pad.
R No limitations.
D Just as long as my fingers can press the black keys.
S
There are no blue straight lines or three repeating holes to tell me where to write and when to stop. I can just keep going………………………..
…………………….. and going
I think to myself, I’m saving trees. Yet all the while my fingers crave for the firm grasp of a pen and the indelible marks they will produce.
…….. and going
Is it still
Consider
ed writing if it’
s not ta
ngible?
Blogs are kind of rude when you think about it. What makes you think I want to read about your thoughts, your opinions, you trials and tribulations? What makes you think they are so interesting that I MUST read them? Huh? What makes you think I want to see EVERY picture you memory card holds? Huh? Huh? Maybe we have something better to do with our lives than to look at yours. You’re not special. You’re just ordinary. You’re just you…
EUREKA! I got it. That's just it. It's not important. EXACTLY. Everyday is just that, everyday. My everyday is not your everyday, but regardless everyday is just that- everyday. Its run-of-the-mill and with out the everyday normality, we wouldn't have that one special day at all. Everyday is necessary in order to have the sensational. The ordinary is just as important as the extraordinary, the boring is just as important and the fun, and the lame is just as important as the spectacular. Without the usual, the unusual wouldn’t even exist. The balance is more important then we even realize.
Perhaps these people writing these everyday blogs are more important than anyone else writing about the news, current events, or celebrity whereabouts. Maybe they deserve the awards for just being and documenting, rather than another English professor with a degree from an ivy league.
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