migblog

i was perusing through some friends' blogs, and came across one entry from one of them that seemed deftly profound and relevant to this whole blogging thing. most everyone says it's a fad, that it's going to pass soon enough, just give it some time. although, you notice, that there doesn't seem to be any signs of stopping since people can post whatever the hell they want, and therefore express themselves in a manner they've never been able to before. like someone said, it's the prospect of being so public with your idea, but at the same time so private since who knows how they got to your website without even an inkling of a url or subject matter that's on it. you can't publicize your blog until, of course, you do some of the advertising yourself. you just hope that your readership out there, if there even is one, comes back enough to care about what you're doing.

it's tough, this writing thing. so public... thoughts can get so decimated so easily, and i guess writing them down is what keeps me in check, SANE, my way of venting to the psychologist that is the blogging editor. then i just hit the 'post and publish' button, and everything seems to go right, until people start reading and start giving me feedback. or lack thereof sometimes, but you know. i'm not writing to impress people, i'm writing because i like to write. but if it comes across sometimes that i am, then sorry, i can't help myself. i'm too much of a showman to not say i'm writing this out of sincere self-expression. there's the part of me that wants to be heard, that wants to be listened to.

so back to my friend's post, which said, "what if poets couldn't express themselves through writing? i'm sure they'll find other ways of expressing themselves." now, imagine that this entire world did not write. no newspapers, no alphabet, no nothing. if everything just happened to be aural and oral, how would poets express themselves then? sing? writers can't even exist, novels would be pointless, and blogs would be the downfall of society. if no one could write, and therefore express themselves in a manner that a part of the population can understand (which would, i guess, lead to the propagation of certain truths and ideas), this world would be so fucked up beyond belief, i wouldn't even know where to start.

then, i'm kinda glad about the fact that it's not like that at all, since, hell, i'm typing this post up for you all to read so that you know what goes on inside my head. some semblance of it, at least. and it's not much on the way of being poetic or persuasive, or even essayistic, but i try my best to communicate as effectively as i possibly can so that i don't go crazy talking to myself debating whether or not i should eat some ice cream or do my homework.

if poets couldn't write,
singers wouldn't sing,
music would fall deaf
to blind ears and deaf eyes.

if poets couldn't write,
hearers wouldn't listen,
kisses wouldn't be as sweet
as they are on loving lips.

if poets couldn't write,
dreamers wouldn't dream,
feeling grass between my toes
would never feel as good as now.

if poets couldn't write,
thinkers wouldn't think,
the sun on your face wouldn't be
as warm and friendly.

if poets couldn't write,
children wouldn't grow up,
the cold realization of life
wouldn't stare them in the eye.

if poets couldn't write,
lovers wouldn't love,
loneliness would permeate
every essence of their being.

if poets couldn't write,
the world would be so
s i l e n t
and so deafening.

but i'm glad that poets write.
they tend to set most things right.

posted by Open Source Food @ 8:34 PM