Cold chillin

Bernie Calderon
2003-04-21 06:18:59 (UTC)

Why online?

I suppose that what I write reflects who I am as a person.
An inconsquential person can never produce somethig of
substance, for he simply doesn't have it in him to do. But
the thing is, is that life is so arbitrary. Words are so
arbitrary, fleeting, fluid. Why bother to codify something
of your life, when that event and experience is subject to
change at every instance. What is written one minute
changes the next. Life is like that. I very rarely read
what I write here. And I very much doubt that my cyber
journal is captivating enough to rivet the attention of
online readers. But I never meant it to be so. So what did
I mean this journal to be? Online ramblings? An open forum
to bounce ideas off of? Whining? Perhaps all of those and
more. I don't know. But I do know that my journal, like
everybody else's comprises of blank pages. Pages where
nothing is revealed and everything is told. We're all
voyeurs to an extent. But why do we, who journal, feel the
need to journal in an online venue? Is there some thrill
knowing that perhaps somebody is reading what you write? Is
there an intrinsic desire to simply share yourself with
others? Is it simply because telling other anonymous people
about your problems is easier than confronting them
yourself, or even disclosing them to the real life
individuals around you that can actually help? I don't know
why I write in here anymore. I used to justify it by
convincing myself that I was undertaking an endeavour to
understand myself. But I don't understand myself, and I
know myself less now, than I did 9 months ago. But I
continue to produce these blank pages, compelled to write
down the most meaningless events in my life that have no
significance to anybody, not even me.


bERNIe




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