For a moment there, I had this feeling come over me that I wanted to quit the blog. There's no reward to it, I thought. Only frustration.
Not only that, sometimes I write something that I cannot truly believe to be true. I hate that when I do it. It happens sometimes. Not that I lie. It isn't exaggeration either. It's a lack of sincerity that I sometimes suspect myself of.
Nobody is that committed to freedom that they will risk everything for it. That kind of person doesn't exist anymore. For whatever reason, it has disappeared. Would I risk everything for freedom? I'd like to think I would, but the answer is probably no. Like so many of people in this society, I am just not that committed to anything. It may be the thing that is killing our culture.
Once before, not that long ago, I had the same feeling of giving up. What snapped me out of it was to realize that the blog is my connection to the world. Even if the world doesn't care and isn't interested, as long as there's a blog, I'm connected. Once I quit the blog, the connection is gone. It would be like dying.
Would I miss it? I dunno. The blog may not need me, and maybe I need the blog. But why? There's nothing in it for me but pain. It is not as if I like pain. I avoid pain. It hurts me. ( stealing Daffy Duck's line )
Yeah, sure. Joke about it. But it isn't really funny. If I won't commit to anything, perhaps I can commit to this blog. Hell or high water, it goes on. ( If I am able.)
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