Reflections of a Blogger

Half-way through this blogging exercise, I stop to reflect on this virtual communication mode. While the accessibility is addicting, I am beginning to see a parallel, or an equation, appearing in the blue tint of the screen. The more I blog, the more I become disillusioned that others’ care to read what I write (never mind this is a closed site), all the while, the postings become more personal. This is a strangely illogical ebb and flow. Or maybe it is tapping into a natural human desire to be known (for more than 15 minutes).

I do understand the usefulness of the on-line diary; many a time, I have clicked on “Trina’s trip to Tibet” or the equivalent, but beyond the trip logs, I find blogging to be several layers deeper in self-absorption than general writing. Now that I come to think about it, blogging isn’t replacing anything (yet). It is simply a new way to share information. But blogging seems to take on an informal tone to it and a rambling nature. TMI. And there is something that feels narcissistic about blogging.

Of course, I claim guilty to all that I suggest. The truth is, our culture’s privacy lines and appropriate limits of self-disclosure have been blurred between all the posting, the clicking and the squinting, never to be the same again. But before I become slave to my own observations and narcisistically disclose all the unimportant details of my day, I will sign off.