Intimacy from a distance

I blog, therefore I am

As I start out on yet another blogging platform (Posterous), I can’t help but wonder, what is this compulsion to keep writing about my personal life and views even when apparently no one cares? I mean, just look at the blogosphere, teeming with hopeful amateurs and disillusioned veterans. Why do we keep creating new places to share our thoughts? Don’t we already have an easier solutions via platforms like Facebook or Pinterest where quick, painless sharing fits perfectly into our ADD lifestyles?

Honestly, I don’t know. I suppose part of that answer, for me at least, is that I am a writer. It’s more than just a profession, it’s a calling; either you are a writer or you’re not. When a writer ignores the words that have to come out, she slowly whittles away until she can’t do anything else but give in to it.

But what about all those millions of bloggers out there who are not writers, but still responding to the siren call of The Blog? I believe it’s part of human nature, that deep-rooted need to be heard, to feel like we matter, to be part of something bigger than just ourselves. And what could be bigger than the vast expanse of the internet?

The world at large has become more focused on the individual at the expense of community, and we seem to compensate for that loss of contact by reaching out to a virtual global community – to strangers – that is just waiting to hear from us on the other side of our solitary computer screens. At least, that’s what we tell ourselves as we click “Publish” and our words spill out into that endless, silent void.

Intimacy from a distance.


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