There’s a certain suggestion that those of my generation are preternaturally self-obsessed. We’re the epitome of narcissism and we believe that our thoughts no matter how dull or meaningless ought to be heard by the world. Of course, this is no truer of my generation than it is of any other, but there seems to be an obsession as of late with mocking millennials, and if you’re in the business of journalism, it seems, there is no shortage of stories to be written, bemoaning the ruination of the world at the hands of ‘millennials’.
The reality of the situation is that the internet writ large has created an environment where everyone believes their every thought and rumination in the shower at three am to be important. This can be exhausting at times and entertaining at others. The problem is, I’m just not really one of those people.
A constant struggle I have faced, since this blog’s inception has always been the question: Who cares? Why is what I’m saying worth writing about let alone worth reading, and more importantly, do I have anything to say that people will care about? This all can be rather problematic for a blogger who previously enjoyed a full year and a half or so of daily blogging, before it all came crashing down to the point that it’s been the better part of five months now since I last blogged and I miss it terribly.
I can’t promise that everything I say will be brimming with insight or intellect, even as I write this I question whether or not it’s worth polluting the already overcrowded blogosphere with my thoughts, but until we reach a point in which there is a serious concern about the no longer infinite space of the internet, I’m going to find a way to make sure that I keep on blogging, because I miss this, and I still have thoughts.
So let’s get to it shall we?