Peeping into personal lives of others, is an ultimate human adventure. We love to see and judge. Even if we rename judging as helping/advising/learning. But the fact remains. Personal blogging gives an opportunity to see inside the mind of blogger albeit through a prism of myriad words which we may or may not understand.
My suggestion to all self-righteous, pious, noble, moral, religious, pure, honest, holy, emotionally unstable, depressed, anxious, di-polarised etc. people is not to read others’ blogs. It may shock them. Forcing them to cry or even more send them in shock, anxiety, despair or depression.
Those who do not understand, I may explain that here, in importunate blogging world, people are telling ultimate details of their activities of mind as well as body, like carnal pleasures. Oh, the latter brought you here in the first place. Fine, but there may be dry humor or black humor. There may be labeling/categorization of people in the manner unpalatable. There may be stupid philosphization contrary to your logical and most reasonable thinking. Since it is personal, do not expect insincere politeness. If it is not understandable, go back, play Facebook or google plus.
It is a dangerous world out here. Thoughts are colliding to become one. An experiment to demolish myth of individuality has begun. At times it may appear like mirror, even if it is not. Stay away; your ‘unique thought’ and ‘supreme/holy image’ is in danger of drowning here. Read no further. Get back to the collection of videos, music, books or good old television. Stay away from this crude, harsh, insensitive, hypocrite and un-appreciative world of blogging which has no respect for the ardent, holy, pious, honest, self-righteous, noble, moral, devout, earnest, sincere, truthful, religious, zealous, fervent and pure human beings, like you.
May you rest in peace, the troubled mind.
© Sandeep Bhalla
Hey, to you it is “Most High Reverent Lew”!!!!!
My apologies Your Holiness. I shall be careful in future.
Well, given your observations I might need to quit blogging as I certainly fall into one of your categories—self-righteous, pious, noble, moral, religious, pure, honest, holy, emotionally unstable, depressed, anxious, di-polarised—but, nevertheless, i will not quit blogging. It has been too healthy and spiritually productive for me as it has allowed me to follow Shakespeare’s advice and, ‘Unpack my heart with words.” This “literarylew” thing I got going on has really done a work on me, providing an anonymous forum for me to “unpack” this guarded, private, stony heart and “let it all hang out” my true beliefs and feelings on important issues. In some way, metaphorically speaking, it is my way of “coming out of the closet” in that I deign to promulgate some views that I’ve never had the temerity to promulgate elsewhere. And this is giving me more courage to live with integrity and candor in my day to day life. Sure, there is a lot of non-sense in this blog-o-sphere and there is no doubt that many people who deign to read mine quickly discard my thoughts into the trash bin. But I respect their prerogative and am glad they know what they find interesting and what they do not find interesting. I here provide a link to a George Orwell essay on “Why I write“.
Father Lew, it is not blogging but ‘reading’ blogs, I am talking about. But thanks for mentioning good points about ‘writing’ blog.
George Orwell seems to disagree with you. This is concluding para of his above quoted essay “Looking back through the last page or two, I see that I have made it appear as though my motives in writing were wholly public-spirited. I don’t want to leave that as the final impression. All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality. Good prose is like a windowpane. I cannot say with certainty which of my motives are the strongest, but I know which of them deserve to be followed. And looking back through my work, I see that it is invariably where I lacked a political purpose that I wrote lifeless books and was betrayed into purple passages, sentences without meaning, decorative adjectives and humbug generally.”