It’s weird, what we remember. Looking back at my previous blog posts, I remember specific things that happened that day, regardless of what I wrote. It’s nice. It makes me want to write more, so that someday and I can look back and remember at least some of the time I had.
I feel like the very words I record on this blog have a lot of meaning. Maybe not a lot of meaning to you, or a lot of meaning to me, but a lot of meaning to future me. I hope that someday in the distant future I will struggle with something that I wrote about, or that there’s a moment that I just need to know who I am, and I can look back, and see, exactly where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and where I’ve wanted to go.
I feel that my writing isn’t purposeful or of any use, but looking back at it this morning, it made me remember things I would have otherwise forgotten, and I love that.
(I just looked back at the last two paragraphs and noticed they contradict greatly. Oh well. It flowed out naturally.)
I sincerely hope to write more, not just for my sake, but for your sake as well. If you’re taking the time to read these stupid ramblings, it’s likely you care at least somewhat about me. If you do in fact care, I want you to know that I care about you too, and that I write this in hopes that you can see me, who I truly am, and get an insight into me, the deeper, more thoughtful me.
That comes to the main point: I believe there’s something inside of me that’s valuable to you in some way. It’s my hope to, somehow, transfer that thing to you, whatever it may be. That, my friend, is my only motivator.