Lately I’ve been thinking about this blog. Sometimes I question and wonder why I even blog. Often I ask myself who my target audience are. Then I start self-doubting myself on my own blogging and writing ability.
This is not existential angst, people. This is what I call “blogential angst”.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been blogging since 2000. A decade has passed and personal blogs have really come a long way since. I’m not saying I’m an expert of blogs or anything, but I can say I am one of those “ancient” bloggers from the past. Well, that’s what I feel like, anyway. I just feel immensely old compared to all the younger bloggers on the Internet.
Anyway, let’s go back to my list of “blogential pondering” at the beginning.
I question and wonder why I even blog.
Why do I blog? I’ve always said I blogged because it’s a way to document “interesting” happenings in my life since I’ve moved away from paper journals. Yet how interesting is my life to document? I know I wouldn’t want to read about my daily routine on a regular basis. How many of those “I woke up, ate, went to work, came home, and wasted my time on Wikipedia” entries can I write before I sound repetitive and unoriginal? One of those is about all I can stand when I read blogs, so I don’t expect others to want to read my mundane life story every day. But I still blog the more unusual events in my life, and whenever I go back to re-read the entries, I find them to be quite helpful. I also wince when I read my earlier entries because I find myself wishing I’d been a bit more mature back then . . . but that’s a different story all together.
But there’s more to my reasoning. I claim I blog because I enjoy it. Do I? I do. I’ve always been better at expressing myself with words (never mind that I sound like I suffer from “typing impediment” a lot) and blogging (especially when I am angry) allows me to express my opinions and emotions in ways I can’t verbally. When I first started blogging, I really enjoyed the freedom of having my own space on the net to say what I want to say. Having my own space also allowed me to find interesting people over the net, and I befriended many of them over the years. That’s another reason why I enjoy blogging.
I ask myself who my target audience are.
Those friends I made over the years lead to the next question. Who are my target audience? I honestly do not know. I know most people who read this blog are people who are returning my comments from where I wrote on their blogs. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it makes me wonder who my target audience is. Do I even have one? I think the answer to that question is a simple no. Over my long years of blogging, I’ve never bothered to really focus on a specific niche or topic. I never wanted to because I feared that would really limit my blogging output.
Still I ask myself, do I really want to have a target audience? The egotistical part of me does! I won’t deny that I do crave some popularity, but then when I talked to Vickie, and she made some good point on how being popular would drive me crazy since I’d have to be perfect and fulfil that status I’ve acquired. To be honest, I do not have the time nor the energy to do that. I like the casual way I blog, and if being popular means to only focus on this blog instead of my other hobbies and interests, I’d go insane.
Finally, I think I’ve determined who my target audience really is. It’s me, and I’m not trying to sound pretentious. I’m my own audience because I’m the one who’ll re-read these entries in the future and see how much I’ve changed or not changed over the years. I guess in a way, this blog can be considered as my memoir, and if I ever lose this, I’ll be quite devastated since it’ll feel like I’m losing a big chunk of myself. Luckily, that’s why I constantly back things up . . . paranoia has its usage.
I start self-doubting myself on my own blogging and writing ability.
If it’s one thing I’ve learned in my quarter life so far is this important fact on mediocrity. I’m mediocre at practically everything I do. Since I’ve always been interested in so many things in my life, I’ve never focused on one particular thing to be better at. That’s why I feel like my blog is quite lacking compared to all the other really good blogs out there. I read their well-written entries and then I read mine, and I start criticising myself. I tell myself to try to write like those great bloggers, but if I try to imitate them, I won’t be me any more. I won’t have my own voice in my little space on the net.
And that’s what I don’t want. That’s why I try to not compare myself to the others. I try to enforce positive thinking (never mind that I’m very pessimistic in my approaches) to believe that I have my own voice, that I have my own sense of style to express what I want to say and be happy about it. It’s not only blogging I feel this way, though. I feel this way when I write fanfics — there are so many great writers out there and I keep thinking I’ll never be as good as them. I just have to remind myself that it’s for me. That it’s a way for me to be happy in life.
I’m only human, though. I’ll always want stuff I can’t always have. I’ll always be envious of those I consider great. In the end, I’ll just have to suck it up and accept myself for who I am and what I’m capable of doing and be happy doing it!
Let’s think differently, shall we?
Really, suffering from any forms of existential angst is not fun. It’s the pits. I don’t really need to think along those lines to be depressed or anything. Though seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses isn’t any better either. I’ll just have to settle for looking at things from a realistic perspective.