Let’s us fool no one more than ourselves. Although we fool ourselves fairly completely sometimes.
If you do not rampantly promote your blog all over the Internet screaming louder than anyone else, the chances of anyone seeing it are minuscule. As in you have a better chance of winning the lottery at 14 million to one odds (as opposed to about 7 billion to one).
But if we set aside the absurd notion that we expect anyone to see what we write, much less care about it, we have to face up to why we really do it:
Sometimes daily you have to put whatever thoughts ramble around in your head down on paper, at least metaphorically, just as a way to deal with them. You can’t really tell anyone else, not even your therapist, because these are not ordered thoughts – until they are put down in hard copy form. After that, they don’t matter. It isn’t about the result, it’s about the process. There is a secret joy in knowing they won’t be seen, and a secret terror at the possibility they will be – so we still guard our thoughts and are less honest with ourselves than we should be. Or at least more selective about it. Sometimes the caution is a good thing, as truly expressing one’s self is often a good way to earn a ticket to the looney bin. Or at least the slammer.
I saw something good at random about twice on here, and I say more power too them. I even commented. Not for their sake or to encourage this mutual folly we indulge in, but for mine (selfish bastard that I am).
I saw something today and almost every day ‘encouraging’ people to write whole books. That is like suggesting we all be bigger fools than we are.
I won’t even attempt a full-scale novel now, for so many reasons. And while I’m being honest I’ll admit the newest of those is my own mental failing which keeps me from being able to assemble any lengthy coherent writing. It is increasingly difficult to form multiple paragraphs that belong together, never mind chapters.
See how that started to wander?
Never mind, you’re not reading this either. Anyway I’m going to try some new medication soon and see if that helps slow the deterioration. Because it’s got to the point where I’m not sure of events and facts in my own life, never mind fiction.
I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.