I’ve started and promptly abandoned umpteen blogs. I’ve had whiny, early-teen emo blogs, stream of consciousness blogs, what-I-thought-were-high-minded blogs… I really thought my last one would take off and I’d be really good about keeping it running and I’d post thoughtful insights about the world, etc., etc.
Well, I wrote two posts. Neither of them were very good, and I soon realized a change in direction (and color scheme) was needed, but being the type that has a hard time changing midstream, I redirected my opinionated spiels back to Facebook comments while I watched everyone else’s infuriating opinions take their official place on the blaggosphere.
In my mind, I had plenty to say, but not really. Anyone can start a blog, and there are many really good ones, (I am a marathon-reader of blogs) but many, many more reallyreallyreally bad ones. I didn’t want to risk finding that I could produce nothing more than the kind that just blended in with the rest of those who are just screaming into the void that is the internet abyss, where inarticulate and poorly-spelled rants go to die, unread, which is probably just as well. Was I really worthy to take up one of the few IP addresses left on the internet? And would I be able to satisfactorily put my thoughts into readable words?
So I watched enviously from the sidelines as friends of mine articulately and intelligently bore their views–which I often disagreed with– for the general public’s scrutiny. I was just a lowly commenter on their facebook page, proclaiming my principled dissent for far too few than my potential for monologue deserved. And like everyone else (come on, admit it) I thought my opinions were waaaay more well-reasoned and balanced than anyone else’s. Of course, that sounds narcissistic. But let’s be honest, here: If I didn’t think my opinion was better than yours, I wouldn’t have started a blog. :)
But you don’t have to agree with me. In fact, I am a contradiction in that while I crave approval, when I actually get it, I stiffen uncomfortably and look askance at the speaker’s motives. And there’s nothing I like more than a good debate.