Why do I write this blog?

A question which I've occasionally been asked, one that I have to admit to not really pondering that much.

The "Blogsphere" as it is known, is inhabited by many thousands of individuals, each with their own little online kingdom, their own agendas, each blog with its own purpose.

There are as many different examples as there are different bloggers, as everyone will want to keep his/her own blog for a personal and officially unique reason.
Amongst the blogs that I've visited recently, some want to write about politics, using their blogs as long in-depth political commentaries. Others want to recommend exotic places to eat, and review the food they sell. Some are nothing more than page after page of "I went to the shop/swimming pool/bowling alley today, it was fun".

And as with anything else that contains a degree of variety, people uninvolved in blogging will pick and choose things about blogging that they don't like, and latch onto them like a jack russell latches onto your leg.

"On the street, the mad loonies can shout out their beliefs, and they'll generally get laughed at. On the internet, they will find people to listen".


"She spouts the pointless minutae of her life, hoping to generate some surrogate sense of self worth, by using the internet to convince herself that people care what colour bedspread she just bought".

I suppose both statements are broadly true, if a little cruel. Bloggers - myself included - have all been guilty at one time or another, of posting crap. I refer you to some of my more drunken posts if you're not already convinced.

But the statements above are symptomatic of what happens when any normal opinionated human being, sees something that doesn't fit in with his/her world view. The little gears in their minds turning, with the words "if they wrote this for my benefit, they didn't do a very good job" flashing through their subconcious. A little natural self indulgence on the part of every reader, in the time honoured lolcat style, "this is/is not relevant to my interests". Rarely does it seem to occur to anyone however, whether the blog they're criticising is actually written for their benefit, or not.

Before anyone accuses me of sounding defensive, I haven't as far as I'm aware, had my own personal blog criticised or attacked. So why am I writing this?

Perhaps I am feeling a little defensive, and I want to cover my back.
Or perhaps I am angry at the treatment of bloggers elsewhere, and want to speak up on their behalf... Perhaps not.
Maybe I just want to explain, as if explanation was needed, why this blog is here, so I could maybe indemnify myself against future criticism, weilding this entry as a longwinded "don't like it, don't read it" caveat.

I suppose on reflection, it's likely to be a combination of the former and the latter. Not so much my second reason at all - at the risk of sounding cruel, there really are blogs out there that don't serve their intended purpose, because they actually are being misused by people who really do want the world to comment on their new soap is, and last night's choice of dinner.

But I suspect those blogs are fewer in number than people make out.

I write this blog for a variety of reasons.
Most importantly, I write it for the same reason I take photographs, for the same reason I buy souvenirs, or for the same reason that at Christmas/Birthday, I go everywhere with a video camera.

90% of my reason for writing this blog, is purely selfish. I write it because I want to keep a record of the years as they pass, because with the ability to include photos and videos, this blog is far superior to any paper diary.

It acts as a kind of moderate safety net I suppose. Should I become unhappy or worried for whatever reason, if I'm so inclined, I can read back through my life to other similar occasions, and read forward from there so I can see week by week how things improve and return to normal.

As a two-way safeguard, when I am upset, I can read about happier times and cheer myself up. Conversley, when I am happy, I can make myself even happier by reading back and seeing just how far I've come.

Preserved as words on a page, are feelings;

• The warm rosy excitement on Christmas eve.
• The happiness at the family celebration meal we had at my brother's birthday.
• The fear and nervousness before my trip to have my tooth out.
• The excitement at our trip to Twin Lake's amusement park.
• The sense of victory, and accomplishment, as I passed the assessments during Army selection.

Like jewels in a display case, all those days, with their memories, their feelings, their fears and their hopes, are there arrayed for me to look at, to re-experience in my mind, how I felt on every single one.
All at once can I remember where I was going, what I was doing, who I was with. The music, the sound, the sights and smells of every single one of those days, and I can sit here, and relive each and every one of those days, and feel, for a time, just how I felt at the time.

I have photos, many photos, and videos too. I can see exactly what I did, from the viewpoint of myself doing it at the time. I suppose for me, the past isn't past at all. It's merely stored away, in its own little entry, with a few paragraphs and some pictures. Just waiting for me to dust off the box, open it and look inside again.

Happiness is only a box away.
I think I'll carry on opening them from time to time

And I suppose, that in a rather worrying kind of way, this blog serves as a safety net. To paraphrase Spike Milligan (again - I've used this quite elsewhere) "What is it about the past that is so compelling? Is it that with the present so dismal, and the future uncertain, the past welcomes us with open arms, to happier times?".

I'm not an unhappy person by any means, far from it. I have a lot to look forward to. And maybe I can record that, for posterity, for my future self, at the time.
But only after I've taken care to enjoy each day, for the reality of what it is, right here, right now, to be recorded, but never to happen again.

I make it sound like I live for the past, but that, is a mistake which I am careful never to make, because the present is the desk on which the pages of the past are written.

The better you live your days, the better your future.
But almost as important, The happier your memories.

May you all have a good day, and many such days to come. And may you all record them to share with others, as I do. Because feelings and memories make you who you are.

And I rather like who I am.

I leave you with a picture.
Have fun.