As doubtless everyone on my friend-of list knows, I'm a high-volume poster. I post links, thoughts, randomness, the occasional bit of wisdom or history.
I write posts for myself. I don't write them for
you. I leave them public because some of you like to read them, and I don't care to make them friends-only if I don't have problems with leaving that part of my life in public. I'm not writing this journal for everybody who reads it; I write it for myself. The keeping-in-touch-with-friends is merely a bonus. Keeping a journal is easier this way. I like it.
I write this much because I write. If I have a blankbook closer to hand, I write in that. Before the days of LJ, I wrote long, complex letters to friends, and long, complex journal entries on computer. I had been converting my old paper journals to computer files, to better organize them. I like the convenience of being able to open up a single day and see what had been going on. I use LJ to track my moods, my habits. I am a developer of the mind. If something isn't working for me, I try to change it. I keep track of the changes I make, on paper, then revisit them and see how it's been doing. Did the patch take? Has it been doing good things? Are there any interesting intersections? Cherryh's azi have to keep track of that mostly in their heads. I get paper, and links. I am lucky.
Surely there are other ways I could do this. I could keep it all on my own computer, set up an LJ server of my own. (I will do that, one of these days... probably years from now, but I have every intent of doing so.) I could keep it all in separate text documents. I could bookmark my links in the browser.
I write because writing is my life. I have too much thought to keep it all in my head and stay sane. In the absence of paper, I have been known to write on my arm, or air-type.
Find my entries excessive? Unfriend me. Filter me. Don't read me. I may enjoy reading about your life, but there's no reason you should be reading about mine if my writing style, my posting volume, and so forth, bores you. If you do like it, if you do read me, cool. That's why I leave it in public, so I'll give other people who will benefit by it the joy of sharing my thoughts.
I hate losing touch with friends; I dislike the confusion of writing the same thing over and over to too many different people; I am uneasy with impersonal form letters. LJ as a forum I like: it supplements, augments, the keeping-in-touch thing. I write my LJ as I would a letter to myself, leaving the bits that can be shown in public available, and the things I need to keep private, to myself. LJ does not replace, say, letters to my mother. I write her regularly, and post the letters to myself on private, because I always think of things to say to her that I wouldn't think of to say to myself, but I know I should.
Am I a loser? What a silly question. My life is writing, and computers, and things that are interesting to me. I obtain value from writing about what's going on with me; I like sorting out my thoughts by using the written word. If someone considers sports, or a high level of face-to-face socializing of high value, then my experiences are fairly well worthless to them. Again,
why are they reading? Most likely they're not.
Note the huge number of online quizzes in my journal. Oh yeah. I have about ten of those puppies a day. They sure tell a lot about my personality. Frankly, they have for the most part ceased to amuse me. I still find it interesting to go back through my old entries and find the days when I did think that quizzes, lots of them, were fun, and figure out why I thought they were so fun. Matching up the questions to the answers, to figure out what was in the quiz creator's mind, is interesting. Comparing results with friends is amusing. Some of the quizzes are hilarious, if you're in the right mood. The recent LotR engrish subtitle quiz was hysterical. Years from now, I'm going to read that entry, and either wonder why the hell I thought it was so funny then, when I don't now, or laugh my ass off, because it's still funny, and be reassured that while much of me has inevitably changed, the important bits have been continued.
My mind is a populous place. I reinvent myself regularly, and it helps me to notice mental trends, things that do work, things that need to be discarded soonest, see when I'm happy, see when I'm sad, see what makes me think about myself... Several months ago, I had an interesting few days. At the worst point, I was curled up on the living room floor, unwilling or unable to sit upright, breathing ragged with panic, crying, biting my arms hard enough to leave bruises. After coming out of that enough to be coherent, I traced the mood back over several days to the root, and was able to fix it. Some weeks later, I had another bad night. I got suspicious, and jumped back a month. Yep: PMS.
Bad PMS. Bitchy Witchy Week hit within the next few days, and I was all right. If I didn't write to myself, I'd be a mess. I don't seem to have a very good knack of internal communication without the written word as a medium...
I like the linkability. I'm very self-referential. I tell myself, "Hey, remember what I said then? Well, this is what I think about it now." I leave comments on private entries, because there are things I think of to say after the fact that would be inappropriate to put in as an edit, and somewhat useless as a separate entry unlinked to the original, but is necessary commentary.
I don't use <lj-cut> as often as I might. This is for my own ease of reading when looking at the archives. If it's fluff that I might as well skip over, I'll go ahead and cut it. If it's something that I think I'll derive benefit from reading the whole thing, I leave it uncut, or at least leave the important bits out of the cut. I will occasionally go back into my journal and edit in cut tags to avoid re-living ancient drama.
I post a lot. I am not a script kiddie attacking LJ with a thousand content-free posts for the sheer malice of it, blocking which was the intent of the post limiting. Yes, I have a life. It's not your life. If I hadn't a life, I'd have nothing to write about. Which I do. A lot.