In Search of Blogging Identity

Hmf. Just finished catching up on GUT RUMBLES, an outstanding blog by the ever-ascerbic, occasionally heartbreaking Acidman Mars, and I'm left admiring the coherence of spirit with which he makes his daily points. Then there's minutiae, by Mary, who puts her own spicy perspective on things from day to day with commendable energy, despite her having started new schooling and a new job simultaneously. There are others: from Tripp, who's matured into quite the questing acolyte, to Wendy, whose calm if infrequent posts convey the straightness with which her head appears to be screwed on, to Kate, whose sunniness and grit combine wonderfully from day to day.

All these, just to name a few. There are some great people out there. :-)

I've also been reading over my own stuff, and after a year I still don't think I know what I'm up to here. There's seldom any continuity from entry to entry; seldom any real articulation of who I am from post to post. I know who Acidman and Mary are, through the simple expedient of their having shown me. To a point, I don't think a person can make a year's worth of blog entries without revealing himself, but if that's so then the picture I paint is a pretty confused one. Which may be true, as far as that goes.

I wanted to post a long lament about the creeping edge of despair I feel, facing another empty weekend, and then realized that the feeling would likely pass before I'd fully emptied my spleen. Did I want to make people read that? Feh. It's not what I want to read on other peoples' blogs.

I find myself wishing I could muster the righteous bile toward Jennifer that Acidman has toward his ex, but of course our situations are different - in many ways she did me a favor by kicking herself out of my life. Hell, she's probably as lonesome as I am. And I haven't even had occasion to speak to her since February, so what'd be the point?

I find myself wishing for an ironic screed to spew, Mary-style, from my fingertips about government inefficiency, hot summers or something, but I find I don't really care enough, and if I were to go on some conservative tear against the idiocy of liberalism or some other damn thing, I'm just not feeling up to the shitstorm it'd kick up.

I want to throw a tantrum about my lack of companionship. I want to shake my fist at the heavens for making it so hard for me to do something as simple as meet a girl, of which there are 150 million or so on this continent alone.

I want, I want, I want... Well, it's a blog entry. It's me. It's true, if nothing else.

-Rich