I find that my posts are random, and maybe only for myself, and maybe that’s why no one comments, yet I know there are people out there reading. Some have emailed me, others are my friends.
The more I write this blog, the more I guess I find why I write it. Sometimes, the best way one can express him/herself is to do so in writing just to let it all go and get it out of onself. I did much the same thing in high school. At first I had a journal, and then I slowly got into the world of blogging, it was a Xanga then, which, I believe, is still up. (xanga.com/cedict) Don’t try to see it unless you’re willing to wait; it continually freezes.
Now; I’m here. These blogs are random, idiosyncratic, personal, and general all at once. I make no promises with it as I really don’t know what I’ll say because I don’t know what I have to say. It’s a venting space. everyone needs a venting space.
Earlier today, I was thinking about writing letters, and opposed to sending text messages or phone conversations. I like letters, they’re personal, yet collected, yet somehow different. I write letters to people with whom it may be too personal, or insignificant, to call. I like letters.
A Random Existence 