So. I’ve been avoiding this for awhile now. For some reason I have always been convinced that I’d have to be an idiot to assume that people would want to read what is basically my public diary. I mean, how arrogant can you be? And Twitter, O Twitter! The root of all evil. That’s the worst kind of blogging. The kind where I have to assume that my friends want to know what I’m doing seven times a day.
Yeah. I broke down and signed up for a Twitter account last week.
So really, this is nothing compared with that mammoth avalanche of a social and moral decline. In fact, Thomas has got me convinced that maybe this isn’t even that arrogant at all. It’s not really a public diary. It’s just the thoughts that go through my head while I’m driving in the car by myself, or taking a shower (also by myself) or trying to get to sleep at night. And maybe I should give God a bit more credit for the brain that he gave me and make a different assumption– the assumption that just some of these thoughts of mine are actually worthy to be heard by more than my dashboard or my loofah or my pillow.
I don’t promise that this will be action-packed. I don’t promise that it will be profound, or beautiful, or refreshing. Actually, I don’t even promise that it will be grammatically correct. But it will always be honest and sincere. And even if you only ever read one line of one post, I want to thank you for taking time out of whatever you do to join in this conversation. Welcome to the thoughts of One Dead Poet.