Why Do I Do This?

The more I write this blog the more insistent becomes the question, “Why am I writing this?”

It’s too facile to say it’s because I like the process of writing. I could write a private journal, like a Victorian gentleman, and lock it up each night with a tiny key. There are lots of ways to write if it’s just all for the sake of writing, for the sake of getting thoughts out of my head and onto a sheet of paper.

No, that reason won’t wash at all.

If I publish my thoughts in the form of a constantly updated blog – a public diary, if you like – then what kind of a pompous narcissist does that make me? Why on earth should I presume to think that anyone else gives a damn, frankly or otherwise, my dear?

No, there is something unhealthy about this blogging thing.

I know other people read these posts (and I sincerely thank both of you for your interest and pity) but it is quite difficult for an Ancient like me to judge exactly how much to reveal and why I should want to anyway.

I’m glad you are both reading this still, because I can be honest about my honesty.

Do I see myself as the new Charles Dickens, dashing off the latest, breathlessly awaited episode of a gripping tale? Of course not. Do I imagine that either of you will notice if I miss a few days? Of course I do!

And yet, at the same time, I know this is ridiculous. Deep in my heart, I know you are following forty nine other blogs, and so you just don’t have the time to read all of them. My gems of wisdom drop into your Inbox so often you don’t even bother to open them before you press Delete.

It would be ungracious of me to be bitter.

Yes, it is indeed a very strange thing for me to be doing, and it is probably not psychologically healthy for me to ask you to collude in my delusion, for surely it is apparent, even to a self-deluded writer, that two readers do not really constitute “going viral”.

I coyly admit that I check my Blog Statistics from time to time. Well, every hour, actually! For those of you who are so isolated from the whizzing, instantaneous digital world that I inhabit, my blog stats (as we bloggers call them, because actually saying the whole word ‘statistics’ takes, like, sooo much time) tell me how many people read my blog and which country they are from, so I know you are both still out there. So I guess that means there must be something in it for you too.

We few, we happy few, form the nucleus of a worldwide internet phenomenon that will make Facebook look like the scribbled note you send round to your neighbour in your kid’s sweaty palm.

Keep the Faith, and continue humouring an Old Man. Both of you.

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About stevehobsonauthor

I am blind, and I hate it. It stinks. But life is still sweet. I have multiple sclerosis, and that stinks too, but life is still sweet. These are my musings.
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2 Responses to Why Do I Do This?

  1. Jane says:

    Hi steve! It’s wierd, I only get irregular notifications from your blog which prompt me to read it…keep on keeping on!

    Like

  2. nancy says:

    I blog because it seems I must. In a way, in a digital medium I have found my voice. I ahve found a way to get people to hear me – a way to escape the silencing of motherhood, of part time working, of teaching in today’s system, of disability. For me, it’s a form of emancipation.
    And, like any writer, what is the point of words that nobody ever reads? An audience takes the words and it makes them into something else entirely, ideas that begin to live, take on an identity of their own.
    Ha! I can wax lyrical with the best of them.

    Like

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