It’s Sunday morning. Actually, it’s nearer to Sunday lunchtime than Sunday morning, but we’ll try not to think about that too much. The washing machine is rumbling away in the background, the clothes dryer thing (that looks like a giant cheeto) is filling the lounge with warm air, and I’ve spent the last half an hour reading blog posts, commenting, and remembering why I decided to leave WordPress.
Here’s the thing – WordPress is ONE blogging platform, and it’s very good. It’s easy, comfortable, simple, and all those other words – all of thich distract those that use it from stepping outside of it’s wonderfully maintained garden. There’s a whole world out there though – filled with other blogging platforms – and if you stay in the WordPress garden, you miss out on SO much. I’m guilty of it myself – I have lost touch with friends that post elsewhere purely because they were not at WordPress, and it was just easier to only follow people at WordPress.
Oh dear. I didn’t set out to rant about WordPress – all the social platforms suffer the same problem. I would point out though that blogging pre-dates any walled gardens (unless you count the World Wide Web as a walled garden) – RSS was invented to allow readers to find out about new posts regardless of the platform of origin. Standards are a GOOD thing.
So. This morning I have been catching up with old friends, drifting along, and trying to remember who wrote where, and under what usernames. It’s kind of a struggle. I’m still mystified why so many people who actively comment on the more famous blogs haven’t posted to their own in years. Or maybe I’m not mystified at all – I know several people that read every word I write (yes, I do know you’re reading this – analytics is a bitch), and yet they never share anything of themselves on the internet at all.
Perhaps later this afternoon I’ll find time to set out in search of some more bloggers to follow. It’s difficult though – finding others telling their story – we have become a tiny minority of the “blogosphere” (I hate that term, but can’t think of anything better). The internet is slowly filling itself with marketing driven drivel – paid posts, advertorials, listicles and clickbait. We are still out here though – self propelled maniacs emptying our head into the keyboard almost every day – it’s just that finding each other has become more difficult because of the army of idiots competing for space to sell their recycled garbage.
I’m not interested in a bag of clothes being tried on, or a restaurant meal being eaten, or an exclusive holiday, or a hundred other things – I’m interested in the person trying the clothes on – the person eating the meal – the person going on the holiday. I want to know what they think about during the quiet moments – what their hopes are – their fears – their dreams. I want to know what frustrates them, and what makes them laugh. I want to know them, and I can’t do that if they are trying to sell me something.