some of my friends have recently been waxing philosophic about why they blog, and I’ve been inspired to do the same.
1) I’m just such an awesome person that everyone wants to read all about the mundane details of my extraordinary life.
I find that when I write a lot, I make my life more interesting because I want more interesting things to report. It encourages me to be more responsible for my life. It encourages me to seize the day. Every weekend should be an adventure. When I don’t write my days blend together and I forget that I’m making progress. (toward what? I don’t know. but it’s better than treading water) so I write. might as well let you eavesdrop, no?
2) There was this girl from crazy group who said that she always wrote more when she was happy so that she had her own inspiring words for when she was down.
For the record, I’m sure she’d be glad I was sharing this. But regardless of the ethics of sharing confidential conversations, I think it’s a good idea. and I want to make it work for me. I haven’t really yet. When I only wrote for myself, it was mostly the bad depressing stuff. But I also wrote in the exciting moments and the falling in love moments. That writing still doesn’t cheer me up, like the girl suggested, but it’s a nice goal.
3) Keep in touch.
Of course one of the main purposes of this blog is to keep in touch with everyone. that’s why I appreciate the comments so much. I try and reply when I can. If I replied more, would people comment more?
But then there is this question about content. What to write? Who to write for? I must say, I am conscience of my family in the audience, esp. my grandparents reading this. Naturally, there are things that get left out.
I’m sure all my ex-roomates could imagine what goes on between the lines.
My friend Dave once told me that not to worry about posting PG rated posts because he reads blogs like postcards. He doesn’t read them for the juicy details of exploits and misadventures but rather just to see how people are generally doing. How bad are the rats in my slummy apartment? Do they speak Japanese? That’s the kinda content he said he wanted. Do you still agree Dave?
I’m sure someone wants to know the torrid details of what happened when a bunch of us when out to Monja-yaki (a type of do-it-yourself super yummy resturant) last weekend. But alas, I don’t think this is the place for such stories.
My mom once told me that I should post whatever I wanted and not to worry if everyone might get to know me a little too well. They can take it, she said. It’d be good for you to shake up their image of you, she told me. Give us a chance to see you as an adult.
I’m still hesitant, though. Adult is one thing, detailed stories are another. I think the line is in a good spot, but I miss having people to tell these type of stories to.
But that’s just for the revelry, which isn’t a consuming part of my life. I’m not posting my thoughts about my mom much either. In fact, since December I haven’t posted anything sad.
I’ve written plenty, but haven’t posted any of it. Why?
*I hate people worrying because I don’t feel it’s productive.
*I don’t really want comments on it. I don’t really want to talk about it when I’m not in the mood anymore.
*I feel like Japan is the best place for me to be, regardless of whether I’m happy or sad. I feel I’m balanced here. and that’s all this crazy can pray for, really.
*I don’t really want to skim my blog and re-read it. I get it out, it’s cathartic, I feel better.
I know I responded to my friends’ posts about whether to post angsty entries or not with a resounding: post it all.
but I guess I don’t really, so who am I to say? but I still post a lot. and so I feel that makes up for it a little.
I don’t know. What is this tippity tappity noise my keyboard is making? What power does it hold? What power can I harness?
What kind of posts will inspire you all to comment?