Clean Slate
Friday, October 27
Never Underestimate the Need for Approval
I'm a nobody.
That's why I am confident about my freedom, even in the diverse, public space of the World Wide Web.
This blog is personal and obscure. Sporadically updated, periodically abandoned. Just the way I like it.
It comes as a big surprise to me how people find their way here. Sometimes it's a wonderful surprise. Like my personal poet-heroine Luisa Igloria peeking in out of the blue. Or old friends making a reappearance in the comments section. Or simply encountering like-minded people by following them back to their own virtual spaces.
But many times, the attention baffles me.
Clearly, I hold no dominant influence over anything, except myself and the very few, and I mean very few, people who are close to me. And this is hardly a high-profile online publication -- it's not even an online publication. It's a blog. A personal journal among millions of journals all over the world.
Being in such a (non)position, I write what I know, and express what I believe.
I have no delusions of grandeur. I don't imagine that this blog will someday be recognized for some kind of importance. I don't believe that more than five people even read my entries on a regular basis (blood relations don't count -- they feel they have to read my thoughts).
So it takes me by surprise how some people, indignant and outraged by something I have written, try very hard to gain my approval -- consciously or otherwise -- by hurling missives or what they think to be barbed retaliations that are supposed to make me turn around and change my mind, or at least make me sorry for what I have done. Of course, these strangers only succeed to amuse and baffle me, and very rarely, sometimes, make me think.
What is it that I have done, exactly?
If I have criticized or emphatically declared my disapproval of a particular person, situation or event in this blog, what have I done, really?
I can't imagine that person's reputation to be irreparably destroyed. I don't think even my most fervent outbursts will change the world. In fact, this blog is merely a grain of sand falling unobtrusively and inconsequentially into the sea.
The longer I keep writing, the older I get, the more I see of human nature through the unintentional things. It feels like a practical joke. Have some of us lost so much of our self-esteem that they need to seek approval from a total stranger who has very little impact in their personal lives? That they want to get that approval by any means possible, even through a measly little comments box?
That's why I am confident about my freedom, even in the diverse, public space of the World Wide Web.
This blog is personal and obscure. Sporadically updated, periodically abandoned. Just the way I like it.
It comes as a big surprise to me how people find their way here. Sometimes it's a wonderful surprise. Like my personal poet-heroine Luisa Igloria peeking in out of the blue. Or old friends making a reappearance in the comments section. Or simply encountering like-minded people by following them back to their own virtual spaces.
But many times, the attention baffles me.
Clearly, I hold no dominant influence over anything, except myself and the very few, and I mean very few, people who are close to me. And this is hardly a high-profile online publication -- it's not even an online publication. It's a blog. A personal journal among millions of journals all over the world.
Being in such a (non)position, I write what I know, and express what I believe.
I have no delusions of grandeur. I don't imagine that this blog will someday be recognized for some kind of importance. I don't believe that more than five people even read my entries on a regular basis (blood relations don't count -- they feel they have to read my thoughts).
So it takes me by surprise how some people, indignant and outraged by something I have written, try very hard to gain my approval -- consciously or otherwise -- by hurling missives or what they think to be barbed retaliations that are supposed to make me turn around and change my mind, or at least make me sorry for what I have done. Of course, these strangers only succeed to amuse and baffle me, and very rarely, sometimes, make me think.
What is it that I have done, exactly?
If I have criticized or emphatically declared my disapproval of a particular person, situation or event in this blog, what have I done, really?
I can't imagine that person's reputation to be irreparably destroyed. I don't think even my most fervent outbursts will change the world. In fact, this blog is merely a grain of sand falling unobtrusively and inconsequentially into the sea.
The longer I keep writing, the older I get, the more I see of human nature through the unintentional things. It feels like a practical joke. Have some of us lost so much of our self-esteem that they need to seek approval from a total stranger who has very little impact in their personal lives? That they want to get that approval by any means possible, even through a measly little comments box?
posted by neva, 1:11 PM
