Oh, you should be blogging. You know, just keeping your personal blog alive. Sharing your opinions with followers. You know, it’s a bit like writing a book.
No man, it’s not.
When a book is done, it can exist without you for ages to come.
People will buy your book, or not. But they won’t come and make fun of yourself unless they are really motivated to let you know that you’re crap. And if they do, it’s still a great marketing opportunity after all. I personally found it easier to go and fight to the death to get three books published in the country of mafia by three different publishers at a relatively young age – rather than ever thinking of starting a blog.
Every fatty teenager from Texas runs a personal blog, but I am still freaked out at the very idea.
Until quite recently, I couldn’t even consider the fact that personal blogs were successfully existing without my permission.
For me, a blog had to be an informative source of multipurpose technical tips, like how to cut your wife’s long hair if you are seeking to divorce.
Something human, but nothing personal.
Then a thing happened.
I used to work in a blue-carpeted office with windows sealed with cement and incompetent people all around dressed like penguins and pretending they were working. I got bored to death every single minute I spent there, and what actually saved my life was discovering two Italian bloggers.
I started following them. Oh Jesus, following them; I feel like if I’ve been stalking them. Anyway, for the first time, I realised what blogging is about.
And still kept me carefully out of it.
With social media, it’s the same. When I was still buried in the office, I asked a colleague to introduce me to Twitter. She tried for half an hour and we went nowhere. And she is not an incompetent. It was me the stupid dinosaur.
I’ve got Facebook, of course, a blank one. Never ever posted or shared anything since I joined in 2008. Never wrote a single word publicly. Spent my time spying on the others and activated the privacy settings so none can see stuff I am tagged in. If I want to share something with you, I send you a private message. For reasons I still ignore, I’ve got something like 1030 friends on Facebook, and it is unlikely that I want to share something with all of them at the same time, and the idea of appearing on their walls with unsolicited suggestions just kills me.
I am told I am antisocial and a few people removed me from their contacts.
You see, all the social media thing is not for me.
Therefore, this is not my personal blog.
Take this first post, for example. I wrote it into a kind of desperate flow at 3.00 AM, just minutes after finishing reading Ignore Everybody (I am antisocial, indeed, you see). That genius of Hugh MacLeod was like: write from the heart, people will hear that! Find your own voice! Go with the flow! And you know what, after weeks trying to find an idea for this first painful blog post, here you go.
No idea whatsoever, but at least the pain is over.