Re-capturing the Mundane

I suppose I've made a habit out of sharing everything, and nothing, about myself on this blog. I talk about superficial things: like outings to movies. Like books I've read. Occasionally, I rant. Since I have made my blog publicly searchable (and indeed get hits from all over the world on certain posts) I suppose I feel less and less compelled to share the details of my everyday life. I don't post things like this anymore. That sad moment where--yes, I will tell you. It's so far in the past now, it doesn't matter anymore--where I was getting my heart broken by the same boy for perhaps the third time. I lost track. And it doesn't matter anymore, anyway. I used to offer glimpses like that into what was real and raw and visceral.

Then I stopped. And not, as I suggested earlier, because of privacy issues. I stopped writing like that because it was vague. It felt like oversharing. It felt melodramatic. I felt juvenile admitting that I did something as gothic as wandering out in the middle of the night in "restless weather" to talk to God about what I was going through. Simply put, I felt that kind of thing would bore people. And it probably does.

So I stopped after a while. I started writing deliberately, carefully, and nothing unless it would "amaze the entire room," to paraphrase Darcy. I want to be a writer by trade--so I turned to this blog into a practicing ground. And I feel I have achieved some success. In the meantime, I have maybe also lost some of what I originally set out to do. It is the simplest function of a blog. And that is, to share myself, and not just my writing. To keep people up to date.

I don't mean to say that I will start writing maudlin anecdotes like the one I shared above. But I will occasionally try sharing something more personal--even mundane. The internet is way too impersonal as it is. So, here's to being personal, and even mundane.