I don’t write because I want to be a writer. I write because I have something to write. It’s simple, the way I see it, and it’s almost effective. There is no pressure to continue writing, rather there is a huge incentive to stop.
It’s no wonder that I’m completely drenched in privacy paranoia, it’s easy to see how the world is changing, and how technology is being used as a tool of warfare. The catch though is that the war is between those in power and those without, or atleast that’s what we think. It’s not too late to exercise being safe on the internet, using technology for welfare and not for deception. The thing is that, well, it’s goddamn tough and irritating. If only complete end to end email encryption with anyone could be achieved with a click (a man can dream).
In this age of already exposed privacy, personal blogging seems like the easiest way to leak your data and that too willingly. The internet is huge, dark, and ugly. You will never know what’s out there, and once your thoughts are public you don’t know who can use it as leverage. Does that mean we should stop?
Let’s take a look at personal blogging. My views stand that unless you’re making money off it, or promoting a brand (because you are the brand), or have a huge incentive to continue it’s almost always a bad idea to leak out so much of personal information. There’s a small trick though, which I’ve found, and it’s easy.
Just stop blogging about places, events, and people. Instead blog about ideas. Blog about the feeling of experiences. Blog about what changes you. Blog about how adventure is a gift, or how life is pointless. Detach yourself, the bodily you from the blog. Let it all be purely thoughts instead of actions. This seems like the most appropriate compromise while still maintaining the amazing feeling of writing your thoughts and sharing them with the world.
But don’t ever be afraid to stop. Because when you stop moving, you will fail.
It’s 1925 and Amelia Earhart’s aviation career had stalled. Institutional sexism and financial difficulties had grounded her ambitions and she was working instead as a teacher to support herself. Women, only just given the right to vote, were considered too weak to have the stuff to fly. Then one day the phone rang. The man on the line had a pretty offensive proposition for her: We have someone willing to fund the first female transatlantic flight. Our first choice has already backed out. You won’t get to actually fly the plane, and we’re going to send two men along as chaperones and guess what, we’ll pay them a lot of money and you won’t get anything. Oh, and you very well might die while doing it. You know what she said to that offer? She said “yes.” -Source