I write a weblog because every now and then I get this illusion that I was meant to be a writer and the high that I get with every "your post published successfully" adds to this illusion. That is not to say that each entry that I post is worth reading but I figured (let's do a bit of math, something I'm very good at ;p ) even if in 365 days I only write a handful of profoundly brilliant pieces, it will be worth the 360 drivel and dross exercises the rest of the year. Makes sense, right? Not? Hmm...
I write a weblog because every now and then there come “Kodak moments” in my life that just have to be captured in word pictures. Once in a while, though, there are word images that I cannot publish in a sanitized public weblog. That is why I have a private one for venom rants, censored emo and top secret shenanigans.
I write a weblog because every now and then RL
I write a weblog because every now and then when I make hyperlinks or upload photoshopped images and videos from movie maker or from youtube, my old foggy friends think I am Ms. Techie CoolNess personified.
I write a weblog because every now and then a reader writes a comment or sends an email or a text message and that encourages me.
I write a weblog because every now and then I read through the entries of a friend from high school days, Louie, and I get treated to adventures over land, sea, heart, mind and soul written in an eloquent and elegant language that makes one click on dictionary.com every once in a while. His revolutionary weblog, the free radical, has been dubbed “the mother of all weblogs” being that it has been unrelentingly flipped daily for eight years now and that it has spawned and nurtured dozens of other webloggers among his mentees and friends who have become his family as well.
I write a weblog because even if every now and then it feels like I cannot capture art or make sense in a sentence or paragraph, there was that guy Rilke who said:
“You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one.
There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
This most of all: Ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.”
And finally, I write a weblog because every now and then there is The Blog Rounds and this is my entry for TBR 13.