Is blogging a way of publically expressing yourself in lieu of a more traditional form, such as a diary? I’ve written before about the nature of blogging and what blogging has done to the written word. However, the more I blog – I’ve recently had my two year anniversary on WordPress – the more I feel like it’s become some form of literary and public form of writing down thoughts and feelings.
When I read through my old posts, I can’t help but feel nostalgic about where I was and what I was doing when I wrote them. They also provide me with a vivid image and memory of what was going through my mind when I wrote them. They are, by their very nature, some of my most intimate thoughts sculpted and distorted for public consumption.
That said if they are an edited form of self-expression then are they really a diary entry at all? Can you really express inner feelings if you mould and edit them? Surely if I change around the phrases and the ideas I write about in a gonzo journalistic style then am I really being honest? Is it not just a more concise, less polished form of non-fiction? I’d like to think that they are a disjointed and speckled collection of autobiographical pieces, peppered with mild philosophy and occasional fiction. This though would hardly be how one would describe a diary.
Conversely, am I being naïve in assuming that many of us ever fully express our feelings truly? Is a diary really a fully personal and truthful tale of life and fact? Is it not at best, a collection of biased opinions and possible misconceptions of the days events and at worst, an egotistical mesh of narcissism and delusions of grandeur?
Moreover, to passage further, it could be claimed that given the fact that we often aren’t even honest with ourselves then how could we honestly express ourselves in any written form?
With all this in mind then I think I’m within my rights to say that this blog is as honest an expression of self as most of us are willing to air publically. I’m content with that, as an understanding of my blog’s purpose.
Scribblings and Broken Glass 