I wrote some time agoÂ that writing a public blog on the internet feels a lot like sitting in the middle of the street, with your life scattered around for passers by to rummage through as they might at a garage sale.
Over time the you might wander down the road, and chance upon others similarly opening their life to passers by. A greeting quickly becomes a conversation, and a stranger becomes an acquaintance. Over time you start reading each other’s posts, and maybe even “subscribe”. You become unlikely friends. Comments to blog posts become email correspondence. Social network connections are made. Instant messages are fired back and forth during quiet moments.
Then one day you notice that it’s invariably you that writes the comments, sends the emails, or asks after others through the social platforms. You notice that if you’re offline for a few days – for whatever reason – nobody notices – nobody asks after you. You realise that not all friendships are equal. You realise that for far more “friends” than you like to admit, it all seems to be about them.
You begin to realise that while the majority of the social internet is populated with a morass of attention seekers, marketers, and self publicists, occasionally – very occasionally – you will cross paths with a kindred spirit. Somebody who writes the story of their day, and who reads yours not in the hope that you will reciprocate, but because they became interested in the person behind the words – and you become friends.