On Blogging, or the lack thereof

Every day, I have about an hour on the train and the walk home to contemplate what to write on the blog when I get home. And every day, without fail, whatever nascent ideas I have disappear shortly after arriving home and having dinner.

There are some distinct advantages to living at home, such as hot dinner ready as you arrive.

In any case, none of the ideas have been terribly great. There’s been no travel or significant events or major love-of-my-life or anything that rates as newsworthy, and so I find myself without terribly much to say. Which is where it gets meta and I start to say that I don’t have terribly much to say.

Having thought about this on the train this morning, rather than work as I usually do, I can pin down one thing for sure. Back in 2003, 2004, half the people I knew were blogging. Even if it was just the same events that we all went to together, or happenings we knew about collectively, blogs let me see a different perspective on things. This prompted thoughts and conversations, and it felt like there was an active community I was a part of.

However, ever since moving to Sydney, I’ve lacked that. None of my friends here keep a regular blog, and those I knew that blogged previously have slowly fallen by the wayside. With a few exceptions¹, I rarely find personal blogs of people I don’t know offline, or outside of just the blog, compelling reading, and at times I even find it awkward – as though I’m peeking into a diary I’ve no right to be in.

The obvious fact to rubbish that idea is that blogs that I can read are public, meaning any reservations about looking into a stranger’s life are entirely of my own making. The hook there is though that it still feels wrong to me to read, uninvited. This rules out, for me, reading strangers’ personal blogs.

The sense of community has gone, but not the desire to continue saying something. The drive to redesign has gone, too, though not through being entirely happy with the current one – I simply no longer derive as much pleasure from pushing around pixels and CSS. I’d love to play with some Javascript and the effects that are myriad over the net these days, but the last thing I want to do when I get home is look at some more code.

I could write opinion – I could easily discuss world events, how Rudd’s attempt to get people talking about the future really is change, how Obama is increasingly looking like the rest of the pack, how the worry about the economy in Australia is overblown, how the world food shortage is one thing that could really be a worry – but there are far more expert commentators. Whenever I re-read one of my peices later, I realise what I’ve missed discussing, and where I’ve fluffed on about entirely random things.

Like I think I am now. Ahem.

And that leaves me back at square one. With apologies.

¹ The exceptions are dooce, this fish, kahiti and defective yeti, all of whom have repeatedly written excellent posts that really grabbed my attention before I subscribed.