Why do I keep on with blog, blog, blog?

Now listening to: William Fitzsimmons

Every couple of weeks, I'll go through and sort of lump-read all of the writings that my friends have posted on their blogs since I've read them last.
For some odd reason, I noticed something on my round-a-bouts this evening.
Not for the ones who decide to no longer write on these webbed journals,
but for the rest of us, who keep persisting, for whatever reason:
(Trust me. I don't mean to be rude with how blunt I shall be in this next sentence.)

It seems that we're all just filling the Internet for the sake of filling the Internet.
We're all just doing this cycle.
I don't whether it is good or bad.
Are we too consumed of our consumer-selves in a consumer society?
Am I too numb to the beautiful cycle of human being's thoughts and jots?

I can only answer for myself.

I use this as a tool to say, "I've been honest enough tonight."
I use this to reassure myself, "I am witty and intellectual with words."
I use this a as cry for help sometimes.
But I never actually cry to anyone.
And I never accept real help.
I use this because sometimes I just like to write and know someone will read what I've written.
I use this as a type of traditional prayer-- waiting for God to spark something with in my practicing fingers-- maybe a revolution.

And sometimes,

I don't know what I am trying to do.

Isn't that life?
We do things blindly, hoping to actually see God working in our feeble hands.
Think to ourselves: This will do something for someone. I suppose that is a reason.

Shalom.