on account of the eight years

Vesper's blog turns six this very day. Here's her thoughtful post about the anniversary.

Over the years I stopped counting the years I spent in the blogosphere.

I was surprised to find out that it's been nearly eight years. My anniversary, or as they say, blogiversary is this August.

Let me give you some account of what I have experienced.

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It all started with reading other blogs. And with having written diaries earlier before the internet was invented. And with all the inner questions, uncertainties and thoughts that needed air.

I posted a lot, maybe a bit more than needed, about many of my personal problems. I guess some, or even most of them must have been a pain in the ass for the readers.

Not that I had many, though - but each and every reader do count, for it is their attention and time and for many cases, their precious and valueable help and commitment to be there and comfort when it is needed.

I would like to thank all of my readers for bearing with me and for giving me support, care and at times, necessary warnings.

I think I was lucky to not have any of those trolls.

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I think of visitors now, who frequented my blog for many months or years but stopped doing so. I guess their life has just taken a different turn and perhaps the tie was not strong enough to hold onto something from the past. It sure is all right.

We just don't have the time.

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The importance of blogging has evolved during these eight years.

At the very beginning, it was just a game, a sweet nothing, it was fun.

Later on it became an absolute necessity. There were so many problems I had to sort over that I was unable to hold my thoughts for myself. I just had to share even when no-one was listening.

I found that writing helped me.

I found ways of poetic expression and I felt overly content with the outcome.

The quality of my poetic wanderings are a completely different question - I guess it was therapy.

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If for whatever reason my poetry helped anyone else beside me, that is considered a huge bonus. It sure did help me in many ways: it helped me finding the name of the problems, which lead to finding solutions as well, AND it helped me find a way to express myself.

I found poetry and writing prose as... an aid? a way to express myself? a way to tell others about myself and about psychological issues in general?

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So (through blogging) I took up writing as a regular hobby and also singing and found, somehow suddenly that the blogging craze has died a bit down. My life was no longer in turmoil, my thoughts were somehow even, and relaxed, I somehow gained a new, relaxed state of mind and found less and less interest in reading blogs and writing my own.

Posts have become sporadic and I read definitely less blogs as I used to to.

This era somehow coincides with the opening of face_book I guess. It must have been in the air. People have become less and less interested in reading longer posts and having larger debates and I too, have become greedier for more and more information in less and less time.

It sure sounds like a cliché.

It did got me and got hold of me for a year or two.

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Now I feel the need for a more relaxed and slower way of communication. Although I thrive in online chatting and I like the rapid movement of information and I sure can dig deeper and did find friendships that endure, I have began to grow concerns about myself, my needs, and the proper way my soul and body should be treated.

So, I guess I am not quitting either fb or the blogosphere, but will focus more. 

I will continue to read and reflect on the blogs I now read, and I even might take up reading other blogs as well. It is the time I allocate to sitting in front of the computer and wasting my time that needs some tailoring. Reading and reflecting your valuable posts is not a waste of time in my book, so don't you worry.

I will spend less time here, though. And even less on fb.

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I feel the need to connect with real people, on-, or offline. I have become quite alienated over these years. Many of us have experienced the same, too, I guess, I am afraid. And many of us is stuck in a rut.

I don't want to bore anyone and don't have time to be bored either.

Sometimes I feel like I'm living my life backwards.

I don't know how much time I have. It might be 5 years or even 60.

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A little reminder: all my thoughts and questions about writing are now posted on my second blog HERE.