Why I Write...

Something happened that has made me reconsider why I write this blog, what I write about and who I am writing it for. Of course I don't have quite the same lofty reasons as George Orwell. I am slightly more pedestrian. The who is easy, I mostly write for myself. I used to write a day trip column for Hiroshima English Language The Outsider magazine. My travel log was titled Trippin' Out and then later I wrote some interviews titled "On the Couch with..." If I call up one of those articles, I am able to recall all the nuances of the day the event happened and when I sat down to put pen to paper (and that is what I did then--I was very computer un-savvy at the time. Of course, the secondary reason that I write now as I did then was for other people that I know would know what I was up to. This was and still is my primary way to stay in touch with friends, family and other acquaintances from around the world.
I remember the first time that someone came up to me that I didn't know to tell me that they had taken a day trip that I recommended (and that I forgot to mention that you needed to take sleeping bags to stay in the cabins--OOPS!!!). I was shocked that someone read what I had written that didn't really know me and then felt really really bad that someone READ WHAT I HAD WRITTEN and had had a bad experience. Let's just say I feel a big sense of deja vu right now.
So sometimes I forget that the who I write for can be much bigger I expect or even know. When I write, I do try to relate the facts or to try to put as positive spin on events as possible. Except for that really awful book The Year of Eating Dangerously by poofter Tom Parker Bowles. I still think that it is the most awful book I ever read. But now I am digressing.
Let me focus on what I write. Obviously, I write about what ever is on my mind at the moment. I try to write about things that I want to remember or think is interesting. Much of what I write would be classified book and movie reviews. I write these because I think they are interesting. A portion of what I write is what is how I view what is happening in my life at the moment. Like I said, I try upbeat most of the time except for that poofter's book--no positive spin there, ever.
That leaves the why--or have I already answered that. The big why is that I would love to be a writer but don't have it in me to be one. I have tried to keep journals time and time again but they always devolve into a shameful sop that I feel the need to toss in the garbage lest someone--myself included--happens across them someday. Writing this blog keeps me away from the heavy introspection of moment.
I considered giving this space up. But then I thought again, no need. I just need to be more careful to keep the good bits and avoid the rest. Unless Tom Parker Bowles or someone like him writes a book or does something that I just can't abide by. I will un-sheath the big guns then. Watch out.