Facebook killed the Blogging Star.

Six Years Ago

A thought forms in the mind – a suggestion, a claim. Much like a soap bubble blown by a child or an adult with asthma – small, yet iridescent.

It gnaws at the mind throughout the day, and you develop it slowly - turning it over, pondering its various facets, discarding the fallacies (or even enhancing them), tasting how the words sound in your mouth, admiring how the process spreads across the landscape of your head, just the right amount of butter scraped over a slice of bread neither too big or too small or too thick. Preferably wholegrain. Raisins are optional.

You try to ignore it, but it shouts in your ear, begging to be told. Slowly, yet inexorably, you come to the decision to expose it to the world. At first you hesitate – what would they say? – and perhaps it is at this point where you pull out your mental toolkit and make some adjustments, refining that stray thought, maybe even adding some bits which you didn’t think about, when it was your own private thought, safely snickered inside the recesses of your head. Minutes, hours, even days go by, and finally you arrive at the final draft, dressing up your Cinderella with old pumpkins and rats disguised as chariots and horses so fine, they are worthy of a Southern exclamation of praise. This, of course, makes you the fairy godmother, but it is a quirk that you are willing to overlook for the time being.

All that remains is to publish it. Alas, you are hampered with work. Besotted by friends. Drawn to the sweetness of the world and the consequence of its removal. So you shove that thought back into the filing cabinet of your head, and concentrate on the things which are more important at this point.

Time goes by, and already it is indecently late. You have run out of things to do, and the only thing that remains is to slump back onto the pillows and surrender yourself to the realm of decreased consciousness, but wait. You pull out your keyboard, log in, and finally put those words which have been waiting to be said into solid text. Already it has altered a little while languishing, and as you write it, it takes on a form which you couldn’t anticipate. Still, the result is not unpleasing to the eye, or the ear.

A click of a button, and your words are there, displayed on your blog, for the world to see and critique. Which is what you secretly hope the world will do, despite the whole “This is my secret and personal blog in which I pen my thoughts” shebang.

They wouldn’t listen, they’re not listening still,
Perhaps they never will.

Today

A thought forms in the mind – a suggestion, a claim. Much like a soap bubble blown by a small child or an adult with asthma – small, yet iridescent.

In seconds, it is texted up as a wall post.

A minute later, someone writes, “Why so emo?”