Are we really like that? Or am I?

Over the past 2 years and some, thanks to my blog, I've made contact with a few fellow bloggers. Needless to say have made more than contact, in fact have been emotionally embroiled with beings who have shared the ether with me like a gazillion others.

I started out thinking blogging is for nerds and geeks and why'd anyone want to write on a public forum, blah blah blah. I started too and became addicted to it. It was my salve, my alter ego, my 'attention seeking' gimmick (?), my diary, or what have you. I wrote because I liked to. Initially I was apprehensive and tested the waters...when I realized I could be fairly anonyomous, I did venture to spill a lot more guts and didn't mind any lack of glory.

I still feel shy and afraid of course, to write out my deepest thoughts here.
(a) - why should I share my deepest most intimate thoughts with strangers or friends out there?
(b) - if I can find it boring to read others' 'eat my heart out' outpourings, then imagine readers of my posts - poor things!

Of course I can counter argue and say, this post here wasn't meant for public comments and meant to win a popularity contest and so I should ideally write what I feel. I do. Sometimes when I'm emotionally troubled, posts become repetitive and more of a 'look at me, I'm so sad, others are so bad, help me, I need sympathy'.

That's what one of my blogger friends told me last week. That women generally write every granular detail of how they're lonely, sad, emotionally fraught, morbid, etc., and this is a ploy mostly for them to get 'hooked'. The same goes for men too I believe.

Dear God! I don't want to ever be categorised like that. Yes, of course am lonely and lately have been having a very rough emotional roller coaster, but am I desperate? No way! Do I wish to be perceived as someone who's desperate and in need of some pity? Not a chance honey!

In fact I'd of course like to profess envy about all those who write wittily (I remember that blogger, randomvariable guy who was funny and I would've honestly liked to date him), or write interesting stuff about anything and everything. But I can't write like that, that's fine. But please don't label me as a 'poor old woman tsk tsk tsk'. Uh huh!

So there! Yes, am having a tough time trying to figure out why he dumped me and of course am questioning my ability to sustain a relationship. Yes, am having a tough time trying to convince myself that 'it's not about you, but about me' reasoning is actually so true. Yes, it's tough, but I will move on and I will seethe and writhe and hate and love again. And perhaps fail again. And that kills me, it truly does.

So, well, no song to sing or hum or whatever. Work is well nothing to write home about. Friends are fine and well, life is going on.

Yes, life is going on. Maybe not on the edge of excitement, maybe on the edge of breaking down completely, but yeah,...life is going on.