Thus ends another Tuesday. Don't be deceived by the timestamp for this blog post, it's actually three hours shy of the actual time. I'm not entirely sure how exactly to change that; and believe me, I've looked. Apparently I'm on the west coast though, that's what the time explains.
Right now is one of those sparse moments in my existence where I'm actually at a loss for words to type. Normally on an occasion such as this I would refrain from posting entirely. However, it is integral that I learn to write even when topics for writing are very scarce. Whatever the English major I have finally decided on is preparing me for will undoubtedly involve a great deal of writing, even when I have next to nothing to say.
I must admit, despite the sarcastic nature of my blog's title, it is a genuine fear of mine that the things I say are no more than a meaningless conglomerate of thoughts. Clearly if this is so, there is literally no purpose for writing. My endeavor to broadcast my thoughts with the world has become stream of consciousness writing. (Which I despise to no end.) But that brings a much larger concept to the forefront of the discussion. Does there need to be an absolute purpose to everything one writes?
Think back to your childhood days, where I'm sure most of you kept some kind of journal or otherwise written log of your thoughts. I particularly remember that my journal was intermittently punctuated with pictures amid all the writing of what had happened during the day. Those journals are now long lost. Do the entries themselves, and the whole journal, by extension, become completely and utterly worthless? Did I waste my time in the past, writing these thoughts, feelings, and events down, only to lose them? Furthermore, is this blog nothing more than a high-tech, less secretive copy of what I was doing during my childhood?
Have I changed at all since childhood? The answer is no. I'm very nearly the same as I was, only with more social conditioning.
Admittedly the journals I kept back then, and keep now, were and are a very successful form of catharsis. All of my feelings and thoughts purged from my mind onto the physical or in this case computer generated page. Writing all of this simply makes me feel better. It also allows me to catalog my thoughts to a certain degree (for can one truly "collect" one's thoughts?) and revisit them. That's all well and good, but what of the very words I'm typing now?
I have long since abandoned keeping a written journal (other than a small poetry journal) and my musings are, for the most part, written here. This is as much for me as for anyone else. From a very young age I've wanted to find some way for my thoughts to be presented to the world. I did, and still do believe that my thoughts are of some worth to the world. Who's to say whether one person's thoughts are more or less significant in the context of the world? It's all a matter of networking and popularity, (think about it, philosophy is little more than well-publicized products of the philosopher's mind) which leads me back to this blog.
This is why I love blogging medium of writing. It is an excellent way to publicize my thoughts, as well as coming to conclusions that I would not have otherwise drawn. Until next time!
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