Pray blog easy

The average life seems to be an expansion and contraction. From the moment we are born we seek to expand our horizons. The moment we realise that those objects we first stick in our mouths can, complete with adorable bootees, get us the hell out of here, we are off and remain off until at some subtle time the spring begins to run down and the world contracts in ever decreasing circles. Pleasures become simpler and more local – the uplift of a bright day, fuzzy green with blue beyond, the sun on your face and the taste of coffee in your mouth.

It is surely one of the saddest things to look in the grave of a long ended life and think of the lifetime of thought and experience and knowledge now lost.

All writing must surely add to knowledge but is there knowledge that needs no addition?

Surely there are the thoughts and experiences that are best internalised. That childish voice, that internal dialogue, that little fat kid that sits on your shoulder all through your adult life – it is enough you have to listen to him without sharing his thoughts to the world.

In humble spirit and with nothing but the clothes on my back and the acid tongue I possess I offer my fellow bloggers some wisdoms:

To those who blog who am I?

In the greater scheme of things you are nothing. Take comfort in the thought that the greater scheme of things may simply be a numbers game and you are not alone – you merely have a computer to bore the rest of us with.

To those who ask am I loved?

Great news! You are. Be it your mother and enduring love, the matter of the need for genital friction or the fact of human sociability and the need to have someone to split the taxi fare home with. It says: you, you. are. special. Or you have a nice ass. Or an available ass.

To those who ask will I find someone?

More great news. As the seventh commandment says “Everybody finds somebody sometime” (and indeed somebodies like to find a lot of everybodies all of the time). It will probably be a hormone induced springtime followed by a long winter of tears and bitter recrimination, interspersed with appalling acts of random violence, but at least you will not be alone. Well, at least not until, one day walking in the garden, the sum of your shuffling existence, you realise that that shortness of breath and mild pain in your arm was really something to worry about, and you would worry about it now except you are spreadeagled on your back, cannot breath and the blue sky is fading to grey before your very, milky, eyes.

To those of you write porn blogs.

 We salute you.You are providing a valuable public service. More links though, less chat, no-one cares what you think.

To those who ask is the world interested in what I had for breakfast?

No. Not even remotely. And you are the exception to the Love rule. Your mother actively disliked you and had secretly agreed with the kids who called you “goggly four eyes” in school. The happiest day of her life was when she snuffed it in the garden.

To those of you who write music blogs.

You are adored.

To those that write random blogs at random times on random thoughts and perhaps take random swipes at random strangers….we recognise you and you, you are forgiven.