posted by dave on Wednesday, January 16, 2008 at 1:33 AM in category ramblings

I've really strayed from the original purpose of this blog.

It was supposed to be for me. Hell, I was supposed to be the only person who ever read it. I certainly expected that would be the case, back when I started this thing in late 2003.

Well, it didn't work out that way. Readers have come, and a shitload of readers have gone, but I bet I still get a hundred or so a day, between the two sites where this blog is presented. Not too bad, since I'm not a hot girl. I'm kinda the opposite of a hot girl, I'd say. And most would agree.

A hundred people is about ninety-nine too many, I often think.

Because I keep finding that I'm writing for someone else instead of for myself. Or, as is more often the case lately, I find myself not writing, lest the wrong person read my words.

I used to like it, the thought that others would read, and even enjoy, this crap. It was an ego boost that came at a time when I didn't even know I had an ego.

But then something started happening. And I started using this venue as an outlet to say the things that I was unwilling or unable to say in person. I started writing entries with particular readers in mind.

I started writing entries to certain people. I did that for a long time.

And now, I'm doing it again.

Because I can't say certain things in person. The timing is wrong. Or the vibes I'm getting feel wrong. Or the Moon is in the wrong phase. Or the opportunities are just so rare that I don't want to screw them up by piling my bullshit onto someone who doesn't expect it or need it or want it.

Bullshit like, sometimes I'm just so fucking happy that I forget to be sad. I forget that I want more, and that I will always want more, but that most of all I just want the air to be cleared. I want to somehow convey that I am not satisfied with the way things are, but that neither am I at all ungrateful for this series of miracles by which I've been blessed.

I forget to be sad, and then I sit here alone late at night, and it all comes rushing back to me, and I write drivel like that last paragraph.

And the really funny thing is, I don't think that my intended audience reads me anymore. I don't blame them at all.

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