Monday, September 30, 2013

Culmination

So, I finally made it, 20 posts in 30 days. At times I didn't think I'd be able to pull it off. I felt pressured and rushed, like I was under high anxiety to meet an important deadline that really mattered, but I was short on material, and even shorter on time.

Or so it seemed.

I made a list of possible topics to use ahead of time, if I ever found myself in a bind with nothing to say, and no spontaneous insights to share, from the bottom of my heart and the top of my mind. An idea map to give me a sense of direction, a list of possible ideas to use if I ever felt lost, uncertain of what to say, or not feeling like saying anything at all. I also used my paper journal a lot, another useful map, scanning it for ideas, finding fragments of thoughts that needed elaboration, and I went with it.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Some posts were overly rushed, poorly edited, unclear, too long, not right. It's like time was speeding up. The days rolled by, like a tidal wave. And sometimes I surfed, and sometimes I crashed. So I forced myself to keep going. Going against the philosophy of flow, only to find myself drawn back into it by natural momentum. It's either sink or swim, keep going or giving up.

By seeing the clunkiness in my movements, but even more so by feeling it, feeling the pulse of my words, breathing a full breath of life from the belly, or gasping for air, and adjusting the tempo to maximize the repair, I made a note of the difference between force and flow, between resistance and balance, this I know.

But that being said, I've never felt more alone in my life on this blog, than I have these past 30 days. Not lonely, just alone, like I'm speaking to an empty room. And every now and then people peep through the windows, and sometimes people pop in off the street for just a minute, without sitting down, without signing in, without taking off their hat and sunglasses, and without even sticking around for the whole show, and then they leave without saying anything at all. It's an open meeting. People can come and go as they please. No obligations. No worries. That's just par for the course. Can't really expect or demand anything more.

Problem is most of them aren't people. Say what? What are they then? They are robots. Yes, it's true. Although I don't have an exact figure of the projected numbers, but it is quite high, probably at least 50 percent of all my traffic. And maybe some of them are aliens. Yeah, that's right, they're electronically generated inter-dimensional illegal border crossers from the Planet X.

Yeah, I'm not serious, well not about the illegal inter-dimensional border crossers, at least I don't think so, but I am serious about the robots. Sadly, it appears that most of my readers are in fact robots. And I hate robots. I do not write for robots. I am not a fan of artificial intelligence, at all. I write for real people.

I don't need a lot of people, but I do need some. I would rather have one real person, than one million robots scanning my blog everyday. Unless we're talking about pay-per-click, in which case I'd have to set up a for-robots-only channel. Yeah, roll in the big bucks, with my robot only money making machine. Although something still doesn't quite feel right about that either, sounds like some kind of esoteric ponzi scheme, because someone's footing the bill, someone with a real face and a real life, with real money to lose, and who the hell would have robots working against their own interests. Seriously. So maybe that wouldn't be such a good plan after all.

Anyway, who'd have thought that more posts would translate into less traffic, and by traffic I do mean both robots and people. It's true. I've actually seen a reduction in traffic ever since I started this challenge. Isn't that strange? You'd think it would be the other way around. Blog land you are just so full of surprises. I cannot figure you out.

Okay, I speak to the real people that are there peeping through the window of this side show freak act, as if it were a television screen, probably some kind of an Access TV show, and I'm the main attraction, looking in believing that you are not being seen, but you are, yes, your screen is actually a two way mirror. Isn't that a trip? Why don't you meditate on that for a moment.

Sorry, I don't mean to push anyone over the edge right into the padded room of a mental hospital. There is no reason to be paranoid. I'm not a wacko. I'm just a little eccentric. Totally harmless. Probably smoked too much pot in my life, but I don't any more. So don't worry about that, mental stability is a-okay. Do keep in mind though that when you look into somebody's window, you just might be seen.

Actually, don't mind me, I'm just getting into my playful October mood, and though it is true in principle, I really don't know shit. I've long since learned that you cannot go by web statistics to provide the whole truth, at least regarding locations and page views, some people cover their tracks and others don't leave any at all. And sometimes it's not even intentional. It's just the security of the system.

But anyway, if you happened to make it this far, I guess I should get to the point.

Things will slow down once again for awhile. 20 posts in 30 days is just way too hectic for me to maintain doing on a regular basis, especially without getting paid. That's why this is only a once a year thing, and this may very well be the last. If I feel like it I'll do it, but only if I feel like it. So, I'll see you, or rather you'll see me, sometime in October, though I'll probably be up and running again in a couple days.

*This is post 20 of 20, part of my 20 Posts in 30 Days challenge.

4 comments:

del said...

Heh. I know exactly what you mean about those robots. I recently moved my own blog from one service to another and the new site wasn't up but **maybe** six hours before spammers in Thailand found it and started posting garbage comments. It was pretty amazing, actually. They must watch the DNS servers looking for new domain names to pop up or something...

Cym said...

Your comment is a good example also of what I was talking about, though maybe you're not aware of it, or maybe you are, but you're flying under the radar. Had you not commented I wouldn't have known you were here. You were invisible to blogger stats as well as statcounter.com. Interesting, the only one that picked it up, was Google Analytics, which I rarely check. Whereas most of my robot/spam traffic is picked up by blogger stats, and ignored by the others.

del said...

Yeah, I'm kind of flying under the radar. I turned on the 'no track' privacy settings in my browsers and installed ad blockers to cut down on the inane ads and webbugs that were making the Internet creepy and un-fun for me. That's why I look invisible to most of the stats counters. But you raise an excellent point. If we as independent bloggers require at least some minimal level of acknowledgement that our work is being read to continue blogging then increasing web privacy could eventually cause us all to "die on the vine" so to speak.

I enjoy blogging. The simple fact that a post could be read by someone forces me to learn more and be more organized and thorough than writing in my personal journal ever does. That few people actually do read doesn't change that. Still, like you, it does often seem like I'm speaking (or showing vacation slides) to an empty room. It can be discouraging at times, but every time I've taken a break from it I always seem to find myself coming back.

Cym said...

Yeah, I totally agree with everything you said here.

I don't expect comments on every post I write, though once in awhile is nice, but I think I would be completely overwhelmed if I received hundreds of them on every single post; it would just be too much, and probably wouldn't be able to read or respond to all of them.

But in light of the fact that I receive so few comments, I really do rely on my web stats to at least reassure me that there is actually an audience, even if most of those people never wish to reveal themselves and engage in a dialogue, but if there ever came a day where everyone reading my blog was flying under the radar, completely invisible to my web stats, and giving me the false indication that I have no audience when I actually do, I would probably have to stop. I would feel as if since nobody is reading, and nobody cares, what is the point in continuing? Even though there could actually be thousands, but because they are invisible, it is as if they don't exist.

So, yeah, I never really thought about it before, prior to this post and these comments, just how potentially harmful surfing invisibly could be to people who depend on some sort of feedback that they are being read.

It's something to think about. And also about just how helpful leaving a comment every now and then could be to people who don't seem to be getting much feedback at all. It could make all difference in influencing a person's decision to keep going or to quit. I'll have to remember to do that myself, I've been sort of comment shy lately, writing a lot on my own blog, but not commenting anywhere else.

Well, anyway, thank you for your comments. It's been good food for thought.