A Revelation
You know what, I think I just realized why making regular updates on LiveJournal is so hard for me. It's because it makes me feel like I have such a tenuous connection with people that the only way I can inform them about current events in my life is by posting them online. Honestly, I find it somewhat depressing - perhaps partly because whenever I post on here, I wait nervously and look for comments or some other indication that people read what I put up. And when people don't, it's like the ultimate in social failings: not only do the people you know not talk about how they're feeling or what they're doing through physically proximal conversation or via telephone or email, but they don't even bother responding to a rather obvious plea for communication. Of course, a lot of people might feel like they don't have a lot of time for social interaction, and thus turn to LiveJournal as an alternate method of obtaining such interaction. That's perfectly fine.
For my personal situation, however, I don't understand why people can spend an hour or two "Livejournaling" but can't find the time to drop a comment consisting of at least one word on my posts. For the most part, I post blocks of contemplative thought that reflect serious and important issues in my life. If people who know me would think for a moment on how often I talk about my problems, I think they'd realize that I do it with an extremely rare frequency. When I do feel the need to talk about things of import, it'd be nice to know that other people are at least listening. I know I listen to issues that the people I know are confronting and give them what comfort I can.
Anyway, yes. Two paragraphs of bitching. La dee freaking da. Finite Automata sucks. Blargh.
For my personal situation, however, I don't understand why people can spend an hour or two "Livejournaling" but can't find the time to drop a comment consisting of at least one word on my posts. For the most part, I post blocks of contemplative thought that reflect serious and important issues in my life. If people who know me would think for a moment on how often I talk about my problems, I think they'd realize that I do it with an extremely rare frequency. When I do feel the need to talk about things of import, it'd be nice to know that other people are at least listening. I know I listen to issues that the people I know are confronting and give them what comfort I can.
Anyway, yes. Two paragraphs of bitching. La dee freaking da. Finite Automata sucks. Blargh.