30 July 2005

No comment

I am shy. I wish I wasn’t, but I am. This doesn’t often show in social situations, yet it remains a ball and chain wrapped around the ankles of my life.

I like blogs. The comments are especially fun to read. Interactivity adds further spice to the medium, and from there to life in general.

Maybe shy people weren’t meant to enjoy blogs. Reading blogs is comfortable. Blogs are almost like books that are being added to every day.

Commenting is not comfortable. To comment is to step up to a soapbox on a very public corner. Anonymity then becomes a luxury, putting those of us with thin skins at a natural disadvantage.

When I had wanted to comment while stalking other blogs, a quick look through existing comments brought up shining examples of pithy eloquence. All punchy points, all in words of one syllable or less. Not many of those on this blog….

Writing comments is like writing a blog or anything else, for that matter. I love big words. Polysyllabophillia (is that a word?) is my biggest problem. I like long, multi-topic sentences. Logorrhoea and tautology are two of my more pronounced (and unpronounceable) handicaps. I go back on things every so often, repeating them needlessly and endlessly, ad nauseam, ad infinitum.

Suffering all the above, knowing all of the above, knowing that I’m suffering from all of the above, how can I comment? How dare I comment?


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