Currently reading: House of God by Samuel Shem (well, I'm starting it tomorrow)
Blogs are a weird thing, really. They all do it: ironic hipsters and self-proclaimed fashion gurus and sports fanatics. You go ahead and you spill your heart out to anyone who happens to read your page and guess what: nobody cares. It takes a good deal of introspection to realize that nobody cares what you're doing every second of the day, even though your latest profile picture change may seem like the world to you. It's like Twitter, in that regard. Okay, so you went to get coffee. Big deal. You read a book. Big deal. But sometimes people pretend to care, or sometimes they sympathize, and sometimes they start commenting on everything you write... and then where does that get you? Now, tens of other people care about the mundane aspects of your day. Is that a feat we should all strive for? I guess, what I'm trying to say is, why do we blog? For some people, they like the attention of strangers commenting on their day-to-day doings. For others, they actually have something to say. For the rest of us, it's probably a therapeutic thing. I'm not attention-thirsty and I don't actually ever have anything to say, so I'd probably fall into that third category. After spilling my heart out to complete strangers over the internet (how much creepier can you get?) I usually feel... clean. Done. And I guess that's why I blog.