I was going through my DRAFTS and found that there were about 30 posts from the past few years that were never finished. Some were just titles, others had YouTube video links. One or two were a bit more personal but for some reason, I never got around to clicking PUBLISH.

While looking at them, I asked myself, “Why do I do this? Why do I keep blogging?”

There is a simple answer to that question: I enjoy it. I love reading other people’s work and writing my own thoughts down, publishing it for anyone and everyone to see.

I used to keep this blog under PRIVATE in my younger years, when I first started out because I was mostly blogging about my silly crushes or random occurrences in school, or just stuff!; stuff that I didn’t want my parents or brother to see. But as I’ve grown older, I really don’t care anymore who reads this and who doesn’t.

Alright, that’s poppycock. I do care who reads this.

But not because I’m embarrassed by what I type but because I fear what I say may hurt people. I try to refrain from using names when it comes to certain topics or when I’m writing about real-life events because anonymity is key to not only reduce the chances of being sued for defamation but also to not “drop one’s water-face” as my old Math teacher used to say. (note: water-face is a direct translation of “air muka”)

I enjoy reading the stuff other people write down. I have a bunch of blogs I follow regularly for their DIY projects or for the style guides or to just have a peek in their minds. It’s such a wonderful idea this “blogging platform”. It’s so nice to get insight into other people’s lives. I do this thing when I discover a new blog that I just keep reading and reading and reading until I get lost in it. I even hear what I think the person would sound like in real life, in my head, when my eyes jump from word to word. I follow blogs that have direction or even those with none (like my own).  It’s so nice to see what’s out there. You think that you know someone and then you meet a whole new layer to them through their writing or art or whatever form of media they put out on their blog. Following my friends’s blogs have shown me a whole other side of them that I am often glad to discover. Sure sometimes the less you know the better but those cases are awfully rare. In fact, I can only think of one person who’s blog has alarmed me. *no, I am not naming names but rest assured it’s not someone who knows about this blog.

My blog is in no way popular. I write because I can, not because of a loud demand from my regular readers. I write because sometimes it’s just nice to put things out there, whether or not you get a response from the viewer. I follow blogs but I rarely comment because sometimes it’s just pretentious to say things. Speak up when required, that’s my motto.

I have found after years and years of doing this that in my own way, I have a voice when I write. You know how some people have purely political blogs, some are dedicated to social commentary, others have “how-to” guides? Mine is simply ramblings which is a voice of it’s own. I used to write about what I do on a daily basis but lately, I’ve kept those to a minimum and begun writing about things that I genuinely think about like my direction in life, friendship, faith.. reflections on the simplest of things like a trip on the train.

I like to think, selfish as these thoughts are, that someone out there does enjoy reading these strings of words for some reason or another. I like to think that someone other there “gets me” at any stage of my writing, no matter how far fetched or silly I get. It’s nice to imagine someone out there cares enough to plunge into the depths on my mind with me when my fingers tap on the keyboard.

If Lois Lane was a child of our time, she would have had a blog that people would read on a regular basis. I’m not in anyway ever going to be a successful writer or a popular blogger (not for my writing anyway) but here, I can pretend that I am and no one can take that away from me.

I write because I can, and because I want to.


my blog and I

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