As stated in previous entry, I'm eventually getting bored with blogging. Bored. I'm not sure whether that's the right word to use. Well, I guess I'll stick with it for the moment being. Why people actually blog anyway? Today Webster’s dictionary defines a blog as a “diary; a personal sequential log of thoughts published onto a web page," and it's actually commonly displayed in reverse chronological order where the latest entry appears first. Anyway, I don't think I want to go into that deep further critical assessment where blogging is related to political influence, business journals, educational tools, etc. Blogging, just as a personal diary for a typical everyday ordinary bloke such as I am.
Some people might use it to express opinions on matters they encounter in their daily life, to practice writing skills, or simply as a channel for personal frustrations. Some with the noble intention of adding into the world of knowledge or simply, just for fun. I have fun writing in this blog. Maybe I like to see myself growing to be a better writer in each entry. Maybe I like to voice out my opinions on certain stuffs which I won't bother to do in the outside world or on regular basis. Maybe I have no one that I could talk to lay out my personal inner thoughts, which ironically many people can read it anyway. Maybe I'm hoping that by writing joyful stuffs, some people might get inspired and they will cherish their lives as well and be happier everyday. Maybe this and that and so on and so forth.
I have no idea why I do this anyway. Purpose changes over different time, place, situation and consequences. Perhaps, I'm at a point where I couldn't find any of that purpose anymore. Some people like to write, and some just love to read. Some like to entertain, and some just love to be entertained. Some like to cook, and some just love to eat. I found myself to be in a certain common trend in doing things in my life. Although, I like to cook for myself, not others. Insecurity I think. Maybe I do care a little bit on how people judge on my special cuisines. Heh. Most of the time, I don't really care. Maybe I never did put much heart into cooking, or many stuffs that I do in life. Doing stuffs half-heartedly is one of my worst enemy I always have. My arch enemy. A fictional and seemingly metaphorical character which somewhat often appears around anywhere I go. I often find myself in battles between introversion and extroversion. Indecisive or confused. Possibly the cause for my half-hearted disease.
I have not yet to reach the point of quitting this blog. Everything in this entry was halfly written in metaphors. In description of many of other things I preciously value. I am a nobody. Writing some insignificant stuffs for readings I wonder whether if it gives you pleasure or any kind of benefit at all. I don't want to be a nobody anymore. I want to write something where it has value and people actually benefit from it. I want to make something worthy of my own contentment. I want to feel good about myself. This is not a channel for my own personal frustration. Maybe it is rather fictional or too melodramatic. Yet, I write for my own benefit, and I wish your readings will do the same for you too.
Some people might use it to express opinions on matters they encounter in their daily life, to practice writing skills, or simply as a channel for personal frustrations. Some with the noble intention of adding into the world of knowledge or simply, just for fun. I have fun writing in this blog. Maybe I like to see myself growing to be a better writer in each entry. Maybe I like to voice out my opinions on certain stuffs which I won't bother to do in the outside world or on regular basis. Maybe I have no one that I could talk to lay out my personal inner thoughts, which ironically many people can read it anyway. Maybe I'm hoping that by writing joyful stuffs, some people might get inspired and they will cherish their lives as well and be happier everyday. Maybe this and that and so on and so forth.
I have no idea why I do this anyway. Purpose changes over different time, place, situation and consequences. Perhaps, I'm at a point where I couldn't find any of that purpose anymore. Some people like to write, and some just love to read. Some like to entertain, and some just love to be entertained. Some like to cook, and some just love to eat. I found myself to be in a certain common trend in doing things in my life. Although, I like to cook for myself, not others. Insecurity I think. Maybe I do care a little bit on how people judge on my special cuisines. Heh. Most of the time, I don't really care. Maybe I never did put much heart into cooking, or many stuffs that I do in life. Doing stuffs half-heartedly is one of my worst enemy I always have. My arch enemy. A fictional and seemingly metaphorical character which somewhat often appears around anywhere I go. I often find myself in battles between introversion and extroversion. Indecisive or confused. Possibly the cause for my half-hearted disease.
I have not yet to reach the point of quitting this blog. Everything in this entry was halfly written in metaphors. In description of many of other things I preciously value. I am a nobody. Writing some insignificant stuffs for readings I wonder whether if it gives you pleasure or any kind of benefit at all. I don't want to be a nobody anymore. I want to write something where it has value and people actually benefit from it. I want to make something worthy of my own contentment. I want to feel good about myself. This is not a channel for my own personal frustration. Maybe it is rather fictional or too melodramatic. Yet, I write for my own benefit, and I wish your readings will do the same for you too.
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