That blog, this blog

There are genres of blog writing I cannot bear and then there is just narrow minded, self-centred, bad writing that spews forth from trawling through the blogosphere. I try and avoid both but often my eyes are drawn to these. I then torture V with a lot of ranting about what other people write that bends everything I think or believe out of shape. He nods wisely, agrees because he loves me but really has no clue because he barely has the time to read the Economist and watch his quota of TV let alone trawl the blogworld for mind fodder. He patiently tells me I should stop reading things that irritate me so. Or take in and even enjoy the other world view. I try. Mostly I succeed and stop reading the ones that most irritate me most. But some things are like an addiction. I find myself going back to read the next set of self-obsessed precocious nonsense. I am definitely an addict. I know they drive my blood pressure up but I cannot help myself from going back to read the sanctimonious crap. I am searching for a permanent cure.

I choose my blogroll with care, and there is no one on it whose writing does not rank highly in my opinion for interest, imagination, viewpoint, clarity or humour. Some or all of those. I leave bloggers on it WHO I WANT to read daily. Of course none of them writes daily. I really wish they would though. Some have become friends, virtual and real. Many provide an interesting blip to the day, a view point that makes me think in a different way. That allows me to appreciate alternate opinions, different contexts and incisive minds. I used to be oft petty and refuse to include anyone who didn’t have me on their blogroll. I realized the futility of this quickly so now it’s a list I want to read rather than a list that reads me.

I love the new bloglist thing that updates the blogroll continuously. I had to put everyone into the new thing and I fear some whom I read regularly have been left off. I do know most url’s by heart but I’m only human (CeeKay, I know you have been missed out – promise to rectify asap!). If you read me and think I should be reading you or if you have been relegated to the ‘Once in a while’ heap but promise to be good and write (YOU know who YOU are) or if you used to be but are not on there now and should be - please please please put your hand up now.

Of my own writing I am deeply tired. Some days I have nothing to say. Others I have too much to say but no time to. And yet others I spend toying with ‘what if’s’. What if this person reads this and feels bad? What if I say something I regret? Aren’t words like arrows, once they leave the bow there is no changing their course? Sometimes I feel I should say things when the thought comes to me – isn’t that the point of my blog – to be spontaneous. Then I get side-tracked by other. Or I think about all the other blog stirring up their own hornets nest and I shrink back in cowardice. I don’t take harsh-ness kindly and I don’t know how I’d react – maybe my vicious self will emerge. She is not nice. You would not be friends with her.

So I write blah blah mundane blah. Or ignore this place. Neither is fulfilling.

And mostly the evil thoughts pass but really I am going to hell for even thinking them.