It’s been a good run, blog, but I think it’s time to call it a day.
I’ve been writing on a blog every month for the past 9 or so years, over 5 on this wordpress blog. Sharing key moments, thoughts, TV shows I like, odd ramblings at 3am after finishing a paper. It’s a sign of the times to put my life all out on the internet.
But now I don’t want to anymore.
It could be a sign of married life, of having that person to share yourself completely with. Not that I’m comparing Stina to my WordPress page, or saying that she is a living wife-blog hybrid (which obviously was the precursor to the Borg). It could be me getting older, and valuing privacy. I see my students putting every moment of their lives on the internet, all in the vain hope of the “LMS” or the “Friend me!” or the “I hope someone notices me and gives me that slight sense of social validation so I don’t feel like a recluse and at least delude myself into thinking I have social connections, shallow as they may be.”
I also am tired of trying to be witty for the sake of being witty, for the hope of getting some recognition. It’s the diary syndrome all over again: I have to write in my diary because only I can read it….but I secretly hope it gets found and then everyone reads it and “gets me” and I can become uber-famous based on my clever writings to myself. Done with that.
I just don’t care anymore.
Not in an emo sense or anything like that. I like to share with people about my life, and spend time reflecting on what is going on. It just doesn’t need to be for the world to see. I really am an old man on the inside.
I think I’ll keep the blog open…mostly because I don’t want to take the time to figure out how to shut it down. It’s a nice touchstone on the past years, something I can revisit and look at where I’ve been. And be reminded that I’m not all that. That I made some great choices and some severely bad life choices. The ways God has continued to move and surprised and form me and the world around me. How small thoughts became big decisions, how random encounters became movements. Maybe I’ll share it with my future children and grandchildren – see, even I was flawed and infallible. But they don’t need to know that until high school, let them live with the delusion of my omnipotence. But we’ll see.
So, that’s it. OK. Goodbye. Later. Deuces. Peace out (I never say that, why would I write that?).
And, we’re done.