Narcissistic thoughts on Blogging

The "blogosphere" is a busy place, really.  I'm coming to think that it looks more and more like society in general than anything special.  There are your stand-out blogs, your average ones that are quickly overlooked, and the ones that make you think "on what planet did he originate?" I can walk down the street on any given day and have the same reactions, but now I can choose to burn fewer calories and have these thoughts from the comfort of my desk chair.  But really, one has to wonder what we are all doing here in this virtual society talking about what? And to whom?  Are we accomplishing anything?  Trying to prove something?  Hoping that maybe one day someone will read our blog and make a movie about our life?

A friend of mine once said that facebook is turning us into a society of narcissists, and I pondered that a while, until it hit me:  we already are a society of narcissists, but facebook just brings it out and displays it all in one place!  The blogosphere is kind of like that too, but I wanted to do a little narcissistic self-examination of why exactly it is that I feel compelled to write a blog?  It's not just a nice little hobby of mine, it's actually a compulsion.

I have always written, mostly journals and poetry, like about 6 million other doe-eyed girls in America growing up and penning their angst, fancying themselves to maybe someday become writers.  Then somewhere down the line I had kids, I grew up, and my angst went away, and I didn't have as much navel-gazing to do let alone time to bother, so writing a journal became less and less important.    Nevertheless, I am still compelled to write.  I still try to journal sometimes and it's just not the same anymore.  But blogging I love.  Even though I am no longer rife with angst, I still from time to time am overcome by these...thoughts...and feelings...and ideas that I need to think through to their logical end.  If I don't write them down, I will have no record should I somehow stumble upon something brilliant (wait for it...it may happen yet!) and the thoughts are things I'd like to discuss with others.  But since journal-writing is supposed to be a private endeavor it seems somehow creepy and presumptuous to shove my journal at someone and say, "Here, read this and tell me what you think!"  Likely I'd get a look of, "uh, okay..." and a dutiful response of "um...it's nice."  (Ask me how I know.)  So I blog.

Blogging can be compared to the old-fashioned art salons, studios and coffee shops where people would gather to see and be seen, to engage in open discussions about any and all topics, and sometimes to make connections that would ultimately bring a person into the limelight and propel them to fame (or infamy),  but mostly people just show up and then fade into the crowd.  It could also be compared to busking on a street with competition for attention on every single corner.  There's jazz, juggling, mimes, singing, drumming, and magic, all vying for the attention of passersby.  But still, we are compelled to perform.  And if we do it well enough you may stop by and drop a dime into the proverbial hat.  You may even bring a friend along to see.  And if you do, we bloggers are well satisfied.

But even if you weren't stopping by, I would still be writing.  The simple chance that someone may come along and read and drop a dime (i.e. comment) makes it a little less lonely.  Happy blogging...