I wish we had blogs when I was thirteen. Or fourteen, or even fifteen. Too bad we didn’t even have personal computers then. The most advanced pieces of technology I had at that time were a typewriter and a bulky Texas Instrument calculator. Xerox copier were just at the beginning, they used this weird shiny paper that left a bizarre feeling on your fingers and were very expensive. No, I am not 103, just 43.
I wrote all my secrets, angry and loving thoughts in notebooks and, believe me, that practice was extremely inconvenient.
First of all, my parents could find them and read them (and they probably did). As much as I wanted them to know the true me, I would not have wanted them to read what I was writing in my diary. Really.
Second, diary writing is so private. Blogs are public and anonymous, just the best. Today, I surfed around Blogger.com a little bit and found a lot of thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen year olds blog writers. Isn’t it great to have a blog? Other kids around the world can read you, and leave comments, but they don’t really know you, so you can still be completely open and sincere, and as crazy as you need to be. Blogs are social and private at the same times.
Third, words written on a page are so permanent and definitive. Words written on a computer screen change, grow, shrink, move. I could go back at any time and rewrite history.
So, maybe this is why I am writing this stuff now. The web is so vast, maybe nobody will ever notice my little blog. On the other hand, there are so many people on the web, in all parts of the world, maybe somebody will notice. Either way, I am opening myself to the wide web world.