I get 3,000 hits a month on this thing, which is technically a blog, but I like to think of it as more of an open journal that someone might read after I die to find out more about my life.People who keep journals or diaries always fantasize about people reading them after they die, and finding them so much deeper than they ever realized. But what is so great about people liking you after you are dead? What's so noble and deep about that? I'd rather have people like me or hate me right now. It is the freedom of vulnerability that comes from allowing people to read my personal journals while I am still alive.
People I know.
The blog stalkers.
I have had an unusually large number of people tell me lately that they "stalk" my blog.
It is a funny thing to confess to someone if you think about it. Why does it feel like a confession at all? Why do people use the word "stalk", which has such negative, Peeping Tom-esque connotations to it? Is it because I write about personal stuff? So much so that people feel like they are doing something kind of sneaky by reading it? Like they just accidentally stumbled into it one day?
I mean, I post this stuff on my Facebook page. I do want people to read it.
Anyway, it's interesting to me that people are actually enjoying this thing. This "Open Book" project of life I am attempting.
I mean - 3,000 hits a month??
What am I doing that people are so drawn to?
Who are the rest of these apparently devoted followers I have somehow accumulated? The ones who will never admit to me that they ever read this thing - the ones who will never make a comment - the ones who prefer to remain nameless - the silent silent fans? Are they here because they got into a habit of checking things online everyday, even though they never really read anything? Or do they actually read it, and think about it, like I do?
This is interesting to me.
What am I doing that seems to be so compelling?
Is it the deep stuff? The goofy stuff? The funny stuff? The controversial stuff? The music? The videos?
All of it?
Is it just me?
Do people just like me for some reason?
If that is the case, then I must wonder - why?