...and so I shall.
I've been writing little tidbits for myself for as many years as I can remember knowing how to write. In my younger days, there was no such thing as the internet, and then there was, accessed by programs like "Gopher" (if anyone remembers THAT). Then came the advent of PCs and then laptops and fancy phones that made it easy for anyone with half a brain to post any thought that came into their half-brain. I sat thinking one day that I have at least that much brain, so why am I not posting my own thoughts and hurling them out into the great unknown along with millions of other people?
Virginia Woolf wrote a lot things. Amongst them was a long essay written in 1929 called "A Room of One's Own." As an undergraduate English Major at Shippensburg University, I studied this story along with many others in literature classes. What I recall so poignantly about it was that the woman just wanted a space to be by herself, to think and just BE who she was, unrelated to and without consideration for anyone else - to not be defined by her position or role in society. (And because her husband could not let well enough alone and just had to check on her, it didn't work. She felt smothered and ultimately smothered herself in the gas oven of the rented room...but that's not really the point, actually.)
The point is that we all need some space to be ourselves - to "find" ourselves, I suppose, although, as a piece of "flair" from Facebook once touted "We do not FIND ourselves, we CREATE ourselves". Life is by degrees complicated, messy, infuriating, ingratiating, feral, boring, and generally incomprehensible. I have lots of thoughts on this, as do others. I don't see why my ideas on the whole realm of existence should be any less valuable than others. I've spent 35 years living in it, thinking about it, trying to maintain it and wrestle it into the shape I want it to be. And as an English Major, I spent many days and nights writing about it, discussing it ad nauseum, and searching out the meaning with the help of friends and a pitcher of Yuengling Lager. That's at least as valid as most other "philosophers" out there. So, I figure I will post my ideas and cast them to the digital winds. Then "Good or bad. Come what may" (Shakespeare's MacBeth), I suppose.
