Ask difficult questions that help you and others face reality.
Why do I write this blog? Why do i spend one hour, two hours every day, struggling with my limited English, fighting to get words down on paper (screen)?
What is the point of sitting in the sofa staring at a computer when I could have been sleeping or reading something interesting instead?
When will this ordeal be over? I have been writing every day for 77 days now, 2 1/2 months, and what have I learned? I don’t know. I am 77 days older, so I am closer to old age; but whether I am closer to wisdom or not, is far from obvious.
What’s the point? I don’t know.
Sometimes I look at the stats. At first, I shared my blogposts everywhere — Reddit, Stumbleupon, Facebook, forums, other blogs — and watched as visitors poured in. (I exaggerate. But you get the idea.) Now I just publish on Facebook and everyone who sees the link, have read many of my blogpost before. In other words, my stats are declining. And still I write?
Sometimes I get comments and thumbs-up. But not many, and they too are declining. And still I write?
Sometimes I almost fall asleep over the keyboard. Sometimes I long for my piano (even though I can’t play) or my memory system or my Daniel Lieberman book, or my family. Sometimes I don’t want to write. And still I write?
Right. I still write. I have no good reasons to do it, and still I write.
On a good day, I call it persistence. On a bad day, I call it boneheadedness.
Why do I write? I don’t know. It’s a difficult question. I am getting old, I do things without knowing why; I’m getting wise, I do things just because I do them.
Hopefully, there will be another text tomorrow.