Sometimes I wonder why I do have a blog. I really love the idea of having one and the possibility to be doing one of the things that I most enjoy doing: writing. But in the other hand I am not so comfortable with the fact that people can actually be reading my texts, re-reading them, and reacting on a way that I can`t even see or control. Maybe it`s because when I am writing I put lots of myself on my texts. Sometimes I am all there. And somehow that`s quite scary: people can actually see all my sides, all my shades, all my fears and feelings through my texts.
But those fears are not enough to make me stop writing here.
In the other hand I am quite annoyed with the fact that those that were supposed to be really part of my world apparently don`t care about that...they don`t seem to care about those things that I am saying through my texts and neither care about the plain texts themselves. They don`t comment, they don`t discuss and, maybe, they don`t even read them. But maybe they are just too busy. And maybe I really think too much. Maybe.
But those thoughts are not enough to make me stop writing here.
But those fears are not enough to make me stop writing here.
In the other hand I am quite annoyed with the fact that those that were supposed to be really part of my world apparently don`t care about that...they don`t seem to care about those things that I am saying through my texts and neither care about the plain texts themselves. They don`t comment, they don`t discuss and, maybe, they don`t even read them. But maybe they are just too busy. And maybe I really think too much. Maybe.
But those thoughts are not enough to make me stop writing here.
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