Angry Reading, Its a Thing

Funny how sometimes you go back to something you really dislike, only to see if you still dislike it as much as you thought you did.

I read a few blogs now and then. I am not a committed reader as I do not entirely have time nor am I scheduled enough to remember to go to that one place and do that one thing everyday at that one time. So when I think of it, I go check stuff out. There has been one blog that I have read with somewhat regularity and I find myself drawn to it frequently, not because I like it, but rather, because I quite DISlike it.

It is somewhat of a communal blog and I go there to see if the one writer who I DO truly enjoy reading has left any new ditties behind. I’m always a little bummed when its not hers, and believe you me, I can tell within the first sentence if its hers or not, but I read anyway. And then I stew. And I think of comments. And I decide its better to just keep them to myself lest I make any online enemies cuz who needs that.

I get that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I appreciate that we are all very different people. So I really have no valid basis on which to hang my dislike. But its there. I get that they are writing about things that do not interest me in any way but that doesn’t usually create dislike in my world. I can read a technology magazine and not be irritated by it even though I have ZERO interest in it. But this blog? The irritation is virtually instant. Its practically palpable.

I have come to realize after chatting with a pal that it is more the disingenuous way in which they write that irks me than the topic itself. The way that they think everyone wants these ridiculous things that they write about. And then when certain “other” posts garner comments and accolades I can sense them attempting to write in the same style and that irks me even more. The whole idea is to just simply write. Take the words from your brain, and throw them out into the world. Maybe I’m getting this whole blogging thing wrong. Maybe I should be thinking of things that other people want to hear about and spewing out a forced monologue and trying to fancy up really boring things and hope like hell I get a comment.

Hell no.

I write for me. I write to get it out and remember things and if someone else reads it, super. If someone else likes it, super. If someone else hates it, super. I didn’t write it for them. I wrote it for me. Thats me. Thats genuine. Thats what I want to read from other people.

If your words sound fake, one can only make a fairly simple and elementary deduction.

I will still click on over to this other blog on occasion, don’t get me wrong. I will continue to log on and remain typically optimistic that I will either be surprised and enjoy the words on the screen or be treated to a beautifully composed post from my favourite contributor. And if I am let down, well, I will carry on, tally-ho, push through the discomfort and will NOT exit out. No siree. I will read on, slight scowl on my face, restraint in my comment-typing fingers and when I have digested their words, will log off muttering something to myself about “why do I keep going back” and maybe even “glutton for punishment”.

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