Blog Dilemma

Almost every single time I think of a topic to discuss here, I realize that someone else has discussed it recently. It feel so un-original to give my own views except on a relatively virgin topic. I mean, even looking back I cannot find a single topic which had not already been discussed by other people before I posted. But really, isn't what makes anything interesting the fact that we can all relate to it and have similar and maybe only slightly divergent views on it? And who do I think I am to come up with an absolutely new topic for discussion? I guess I'm feeling the pressure of aversion to the typical, more specifically, to being typical.

Sigh. For the first time I feel real pressure to end this blog while I'm still ahead. And no, this has nothing to do with the avalanche of bloggers in my social circle (all of whom, and I say this with a pained ego, seem to have found far more relevant things to talk about). It has everything to do with assured quality, in a sense I feel as though I am not ISO certified to do this. I was never an interesting topic to begin with, and while almost everything I can think of tickles my fancy, my sense of humour diminishes rapidly once communicated, in speech first then in writing - to put it another way, things are way funnier when I'm thinking about them, only slightly funny when I say then and downright boring when I write them down.

Is it a potential I should try to work on rather than kill? I don't think so. The financial consideration does not match up to the opportunity cost. For those of us who do not have a single bone of art, literary creations are a pain in the nether regions - the sehemu nyeti's of the psyche. And the end benefits to me (yes, like every other human being I'm inherently selfish, looking at what I can get out of life, rather then what I can give to it) are uncertain at best and otherwise mundane.

I won't let you know if I'm leaving. I won't say goodbye. I won't look back hoping to see regret in your eyes. I will walk away, with my chin held up and my lips curled into a smile. That's just me, and the few who have tried to change me have left frustrated.

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