This place has never really been a blog to me. Occasionally small snippets of thoughts will be pasted in here from my less than streamlined mind, sometimes a link to some outrageous frippery, sometimes just a roughly constructed comment meant to ease my personal pain at world events.

But rather than call it “journaling,” which gives rise to images of ghastly white boys and girls writing of their malaise and apathy at the world on LiveJournal, there I have sat, my categorical declaration left unwritten, untitled. It seems perhaps a title has come: Slow blogging.

I write in meandering sentences, leaping happily from one concept to another while still under the auspices of a basic topic umbrella, the pitter-patter of unrelated thoughts plinging off my canvas top. I can’t deny that, on occasion, I let my umbrage with particular issues muddle an otherwise cogent thesis, but on the whole I find I’m able to start and end on one line with little deviation.

The movement to blogging has ever been one wherein a person can have his or her voice heard and displayed and permanent and floating out in the ether of the vacuous World Wide Web. Looking through the lens of history, writers have truly authored some of the most potent trends, whether it’s nailing a few ideas to a church door, or jotting down notes on parchment to create one of the world’s most daring democracies. And these movements are now, as ever, the lifeblood of the human spirit. While we can fritter away hours discussing the pangs we will feel with the inevitability of progress, in the end, the capricious nature of our species requests that we look at the world with new eyes with every passing generation.

It seems my generation is leading the way on skipping the nails & linen parchment. We put our thoughts on the Net, not so much hoping that people will read it, but really assuming that they will. Eventually, brilliance shines through the mud, no matter its relative thickness.

There have been a lot of changes in my life these past weeks. After a year and a half, I’m back to being single. I’m rediscovering who I really am. For so long, the pronoun I most commonly used was “us” when I had internal monologue. Now, it’s back to “I”, and a more tenuous grasp on single solidarity I have no had in quite some time.

So I’m remembering–discovering–where I stand in the world, writ large. I am finding new outlets for creative energy. And among of those outlets stands this site, and all it represents to me. It is a place for me to put my thoughts. And while I will never be Jason Kottke with his Twitter-like posts linking to this, that, or the other thing, I will remember my true purposes in maintaining this site: Me. So, slow-blogging is as good a category as any.