To blog, or not to blog

While it may not be the question, it is one I’ve tossed around for quite a few years now. Does the internet really need yet another blog? Will anyone actually read it? What makes me so special that people would be clamoring to hear what I have to say? What would I write about?

I’ve journaled since receiving my first diary at age nine. Its cover was purple with tiny white hearts, and it had one of those cheap metal locks that broke before the pages were filled, and I was hooked. Since then, I’ve filled page after page of diaries, notebooks, and composition tablets, never stopping to worry if I had anything to say. I just wrote. I never had to care what others would think or make sure the topics were stimulating. I didn’t even have to heed grammar and sentence structure, which is apparent to the now-thirty-seven year old woman glancing over those often naïve and sometimes heart-breaking lines. I wrote from my soul. I wrote for my soul. Can I do that knowing the world will have access, the ability to judge and condemn?

And damn, seriously, what the hell would I write about?

That question, more than any other, has kept me from blogging in a serious manner for the better part of a decade. In that time, however, I’ve learned a lot about life and my place in this existence we share. I’ve realized that I am a unique and capable individual with valuable insights, and a natural inclination toward the written word. And I’ve decided to blog.

As for what I’ll write, well I guess we’ll discover that together.