Snore.

It has been repeatedly emphasized to me that the key to a successful Blog is constant updating. Though the notion makes sense, it is in equal parts exhausting. I guess I am afraid that if I force myself to write too much, I am going to have to forsake quality for quantity. I don't want to bore you with what I ate for Breakfast (unless, while eating Breakfast, I happen to find a severed finger floating amidst my Fruit Loops) or gush about the latest date I went on (unless the date ended spectacularly - me pressed against a strong, trench-coat-clad chest, muttering deep into the fabric 'Darling, I must be getting home...it is much too late' as people dart past us, silhouettes against shop windows hazy with condensation.) Yes, the small things in life are worth mentioning if described with purpose or rationalized with the help of absurdity. Still, a Blog can easily digress into a self-absorbed entity. Any conversation worth having is never one-sided. The problem with Blogs is that they don't come equipped with social cues. Normal sharing involves an individual on the other side of a table, couch, bench, nodding their head, making reaffirming noises. I know when to pause and let he/she relay their thoughts. I can tell when you understand what I am saying or, (more crucial) know that you are listening.

I don't believe creative people who claim that they make art for themselves. Their mantra is output only needs to involve the maker. Even if they make a point never to display, I doubt there isn't at least a fleeting desire to let someone in. One of the joys of writing is that giddy feeling I get shortly after finishing a story. In that suspended moment, I am not yet sure if anyone besides me will think the piece I wrote is interesting, if anybody will wish to read it. Nevertheless, I don't keep much of what I write tucked away. I am okay with being the fidgety girl with a smile on her face (a smile that could just as easily be a cringe), clutching a stack of papers, vulnerable but ready to take a chance.