# 19

Hi. How are you?

I haven't done this for a while, and having just suddenly remembered that this was becoming sort of a good daily exercise for me, I thought i'd quickly jump on and try to get some stuff out before I fell deeper into the classic blog-free lifestyle I had reaquainted with. 'Blog-schmog' i'd cry, if this post had not been inspired by the tortured existence fate has handed me, and my stupid little life.

Ok, so I may be running out of ideas and just trying to re-tell the cliched blogisms now an amalgamated internet history of whines and diatribes of an incredibly unimportant, insignificant collective when you think about it, with false ideas of an audience whose ears are found so close to the doors of their souls. I'm doing it again. But it's amazing to think that on this even more amazing creation, one that has touched the lives of such a massive percentage of those alive or recently dead, the internet, lies an ever-increasing stockpile of, to the authors, the most revolutionary and momentous notions and statements ever captured and declared [probably full of trigger happy writers when it came to their use of commas]. When it comes down to it, all this crap isn’t really the most significant stuff you could ever read, no matter what the writers think, or even regardless of the quality of the material itself. First of all, who’s to say what is important and what isn’t? One man’s Godfather is another man’s The Mummy 3: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. But my chief point was that it doesn’t matter how great what these individuals are saying is, simply because it cannot possibly reach enough of a widespread audience to even make a difference. Sure, they’ll be some people listening. But how much time would you give yourself to listen to a complete stranger? And more importantly, in this medium, it’s so rare you’d come across one you’d decide to follow and see how its ideas evolve over another. And another thought I’ve had is that those people lucky enough to have some followers, they’re most likely people the authors know already in real life, and so have probably heard a lot of these ideas beforehand anyway. We, myself included of course, seem to think that everything we type, swiftly locked in the vault of the internet, can and will reach the masses, as that is our original intention for writing, no? We seem to think that only we can deliver to the everyday member of our planet’s huge population these ideas, and moreover, that they are better off for them. At the end of the day, we’re all human. Which I feel means we all pretty much have the same experiences and feelings as result of slightly different situations. So basically, everyone has the same ideas. What I’m saying, it’s been thought before, is being thought of now and will probably continue to strike many others in deep thought in the future. These are all my opinions, of course. But I doubt there are nearly enough people reading to kick off about it.

A whole mass of supposed genius is effectively lost to the endless and ever-growing archives of the www. Quite a depressing thought really. All of these hand crafted streams of wisdom and enormity more often than not forgotten just as soon as they bloom. All of this evidence of existence of the lives of so many never really hits home to the extent that it is acknowledged. It’s like there’s this whole crowd of people crying out, and no one’s listening. Perhaps it’s a shared cry, but who’s to deny anyone their right to reach out? Even if I see a lot of what is written as redundant, repetitive and recycled [not excluding anything I have ever, or will ever, say], it all means something to someone. And as I have said, because we all live such different lives in terms of the way they play out in the day to day, there might be an aspect to a specific thought another person has had and has shared that, whilst overlooked by many, really hits hard for even one individual.Surely that makes all the difference. Someone’s listening.

The possibilities for that make this a worthwhile exercise. I do try my best not to get too involved with how I am writing about what I am feeling, meaning that I want this blog to retain focus on the ideas and feelings I have themselves, not my ability to sophisticatedly/interestingly/entertainingly write about them. I think I use this to just try to work out some of what’s going on in my head in a physical way, so to provide me with clearer thought/vision. It’s much more a stream of consciousness than anything else. How it reads is pretty much straight from my head. I see it as aspects of my reality captured so to live forever, almost. Maybe it’s my inability to deal with the fact this’ll all end soon. Maybe I’m just trying to finally put some stuff to bed so I can get on with my day, and more importantly, my life. But, maybe I do this as there is every chance someone’s listening, and that I am doing everything I feel I can at the moment to make a difference. I don’t do this to create a persona for myself that is not recognized in reality. I don’t do this to come off as an all-knowing, oh-so significant thinker of my generation, where I feel everything I say has to be told, and moreover, accepted and learnt from. But, maybe I do do this to try and convince myself that I am of more significance than I personally rate myself as, but only in terms of my own life, not with regards to those of others. Maybe it doesn’t matter that so many others potentially share what I feel, as it is what I feel. It is mine. We shouldn’t have to strive to only create that which is original and thus significant, as everything a person feels is significant, as it is important to them – and they have created it. Surely that’s the only thing we should measure what we think and feel by?

In which case, every single captured notion we come across is as significant as any other. I think it’s very rarely that a ‘blogger’ uses this medium to generate false superiority for them in terms of how others perceive them. It just people like myself that feel they have something valid and constructive to say. It may help one person, but that is all that matters. And we can’t judge that. We can’t stop that. I think such entries are more for the writers’ benefits than anyone else, to aid them in getting through such a complicated existence and being. I guess what I am doing is trying to justify why I do this, but, again, I don’t need to. It has value for me and that is all that matters.

This has all stemmed from thinking today about how I tend to always dress up everything I live through and feel as so much more dramatic than it is, and in addition, twist it into something so far from what I want from my life so that I am constantly disappointed and unfulfilled. Always looking over the fence for what I could have for myself. Maybe I try to create this dramatic history for myself so that I have something to look back on and drive myself to everything I want to achieve. Maybe I do that to make more of something than what it was, to convince myself that I am truly living. I think that I just don’t let myself ever feel happy as then it’s like I’ve got everything I need, I’ve achieved the goal of life and so there’s nothing left. The infinite possibility of life scares me; I feel that there’s so much I could achieve that I cant ever settle for a moment, enjoy what I have and simply make peace with that which I don’t, just accept the decisions I’ve made and where I am. It’s just hit me that life’s as much about finding that which makes you truly happy as it is about holding onto it with both hands. As it turns out, I am perfectly happy. That’s not to stop me going out there to try and get the things I want to generate further happiness and fulfillment, but it’s also something I should not avoid. I should dwell in it, relish it, savour it before it’s too late. Things will come in the future, I’m sure, but I shouldn’t let that trouble me. “I just wish you wouldn’t beat yourself up about irrelevant stuff,” someone told me tonight. I wish I wouldn’t too. I shouldn’t get annoyed about that I do not have.
And the more I think about it, the more I write now, or could write in the future, the more I long for real life. For human interaction. To no longer analyse my life, and what I don’t have, but to enjoy that which I am lucky enough to have. To ‘live’ my happiness, not downplay it as the prelude to everything I could have or plot how to make it more significant than it is. We blog for ourselves, but that shouldn’t be it. If no one is really listening, you should get out there and damn make sure they do. I intend to. By that I mean take stock of what you have, and I bet you find you are perfectly happy. We do this by living our lives, interacting with our surroundings of society and nature, helping out where we can in anyway we can, and generally doing our darndest to ensure the happiness of others too.
There’s only so much you can do from your computer.