you win: reflection on my blog

Well as those of you who read my blog know, I have already done some reflecting and analyzing on my blog, trying to decide whether or not I should keep it running. I think those posts were fairly interesting, however, this is an assigned posts, and when things are assigned, they are boring. I warn you now that this post will be very dry and you should probably not read this, unless of course you are Mr. Ayers, in which case you must. I will not apologize for the low quality of this post, though, because you have brought this on yourself and by now you should expect this from me. But this post is suppose to be about my blog, not my poor ability to make assigned things fun, so here goes.

Scenario:

It’s sometime in September or October, one of the months of crimson leaves and chilled whether, and I’m sitting in my way too early class, hung over from the immense amount of homework I most assuredly was stuck doing the night before. I suppose I was glancing at a book while you were talking, because that is what I do. My foggy memory recounts you talking about our reading journals and how we’re going to try something new. I hate change. This I think while I’m reading my book and hearing you go on. Blogs. That’s the new thing. Blogs? Sad face. Not only is it different but its boring too. Fuck.

I’m sure that was something like the reaction resulting from the news of our blogging assignment. I’m much more partial to the good old notebook with a ball point pen, call me old fashion. I can crap out a page easily, but 1200 words. Freaking shoot me in the face, ya know. And we have to have a topic? Seriously, I can’t imagine this being worse. Oh but wait, it seems I have spoken too soon. Like a billion page article by Ayers’ God, Sullivan, about why he blogs. Cool. Who blogs? Boring people that’s who.

So what topic do I know stuff about? Nothing, at least not a topic I feel confident in talking about, that I feel I can give a valid opinion that would actually interest people. Whatever, I’ll just do movies, I know at least some stuff about them. And hey, why not throw a bit of literature in there too, I'm literate. And while we’re at it, I’m a sucker for a good episode of Private Practice, I’ll do TV shows too. So now I’m a critic. Critics are boring, but the worst kind of boring. They’re boring and mean. Now I can be a balding man with horn rimmed glasses and an 8 ft. stick stuck up my ass complaining about others’ work knowing full well I can’t do half as good as they can, but denying it all the while so I can feel good about myself as I destroy the creators self esteem. Cool.

Why can’t my blog be good. It’s boring, I’m boring. Fuck this topic I don’t want to review this shit. I don’t want to talk about the perspective the author is trying to convey, I want to talk about my perspective and complain about my life. So I did.

Scene.

And now I have my blog. And I’m happy with it. More than that I suppose. Would I go so far as to call it love. I would if only I didn’t think this would permit a smug little grin from Ayers’. My childish demeanor will not allow Mr. Ayers to be satisfied with the fact that he turned a skeptic into a believer, so the L word is off limits, but it comes close, I will admit.

The writing I have done in this blog is some of my best, some of the ones I am most proud of. It shows growth not only in my writing ability, but in the way I view the world. There are pieces that are really personal, things that I may not have written down if not made to. But when all is said and done, I’m glad I did. When I look back on these pieces its almost impossible to realize that its mine, to believe I could have written something so, at the risk of sounding vain, good. At least something that I am proud of. But it’s a good feeling.

When something pisses me off, or excites me, or gives me any strong emotion, my mind immediately thinks-blog. I have trained myself to recognize things that could be possible blogging topics. At first it was because I had to come up with shit, but now its simply because I love to come up with this shit. It’s a hobby. I didn’t realize how much I liked blogging until I stopped counting my words, my posts, because I had no need to. I knew I was way over the limit, and yet I still blogged, because I wanted to. And that is perhaps why I have allowed myself to come up with some writing I am really proud of.

Although I hate knowing I was wrong, and you right, I feel I owe you a thank you. But that is far too much for me to do so I hope I can satisfy you with this:

I love to blog.

Now that its done, I believe that statement is harder to type than a thank you, so you better appreciate that.

peace.