Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Maybe yes. Maybe no. Maybe go fuck yourself.
Blogs. Until today, for this class, I didn't really know what a blog was, nor did I really care. I've always kinda hated those people who put their life out there for everyone to judge, comment on, and, as we all know it happens, make fun of. Not to mention those people that feel it's their place to tell me how they feel about my life. I figure for every 5 meaningless repsonces I get, I might get one with actual substance. But herein lies my problem; I am the most curious fucking person you'll ever meet. Add to that I wear my heart on my sleeve. And I ramble. Aw shit.... this could be an issue. Do blogs need an actual point?
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9 comments:
I've actually yet to find a blog with a purpose. So I think no is the answer to the last question.
blogging. such a beautiful thing.
blogs definately don't need a point. Ramble on, ramble on...because SOMEone will read it out there!
I never understood the real need for people to post their entire lives on the internet either. Do they have no one to talk to that they feel the need to share everything with the entire world? I don't think I would want that many people reading and judging all of my thoughts and views on things.
I agree: people just shouldn't post their life story on blogs. I think people should just be light-hearted ... and you're off to a good start!
Meh, you can do what you want with it... Damn the man.
You have a catchy title, and I like rambling and people who wear their hearts on their sleeve, they usually have the most interesting things to say.
Why tell every little detail of your life on a blog? A little curiousity goes a long way when you're trying to figure things out. And who says that wearing your heart on your sleeve is a bad thing? We're all guilty of it at some point or another... some people are better at hiding it than others at different times.
I agree with Jessica and Fashionably Smitten--you say blogging sucks and then write a really good entry that's fun to read--how weird is that.
Maybe somebody will read it in Istambul, and think all Americans are living lives of quiet desperation. Or noisy desperation.
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