[544]=>Good morning
 [543]=>You know the fee...
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 [541]=>Moving On



September 2004
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 [RAndoMness]=> 28Sep09
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 [JPics] => 10Dec11

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I write
added Wed September 22 2004 at 10:30 PM
I had dinner with Uncle Barry and Aunt Robyn on Saturday. The dinner was originally planned to be just with Uncle Barry, but I guess that after reading this entry, Aunt Robyn figured she'd come down, too. They made a lot of comments about what I wrote, but were extremely politically correct about some of the more personal things. At one point, Aunt Robyn said simply that I write a lot of personal things. She seemed to think this wasn't totally appropriate, that maybe I should tone it down for my own sake. I write the personal things because this is my record. I don't keep another journal, and my thoughts and feelings are only preserved through these (almost) daily entries.

They both agreed that I should not apologize for not posting, because it is my own writing, and other people shouldn't be allowed to tell me what to do or imply I should write daily. However, I write for other people. I want other people to read what I write and I know that the only way to do that is to make interesting entries every day. How do I know that? Because I read other people's writings and I will stop reading somebody if they either get boring or disappear for lengthy periods of time. When I write, I'm not addressing Mom or Eliza. They are often the only ones that read and respond, but my (theoretical) audience is the entire world. I want to captivate that somebody with the inner workings of my brain (when it's working, at least).

I know that my audience is limited in scope. Not because it's not available to others, but because there's no real reason for others to care. My writings do not fill any particular niche for anybody who does not know me. I do not offer technical advice or programming tips. I am not especially humorous. My political opinions are rather uninformed and not especially interesting. My prose is adequate but not remarkable. All told, my writings are rather *average*. And they're so average that nobody is going to read them regularly without knowing me personally. Yet I write. Not for my readers, nor for any imagined future readers.

I write because it's better than not writing. I write because I know that sometimes I say something useful to other people. I get daily hits from google where people search for the strangest things, and I sometimes imagine that perhaps I answered a question for them. Even if it is just how to spell hypochondriac. But I write even when I know that only my friends and family will read it, because it provides me a way to pull apart an idea, analyze it, and put it back together. I write not because of any external force, or really because of a specific internal force. I write because I write.

And now I must stop writing because I'm tired and I'm not sure if I'm making sense anymore.