Why?

Why do I do--ooh bleck (had to change the font)--why do I create blogs? Yes, there is a "s" at the end of "blog," signifying multiple. I think I only had one other one. WHY though? Who cares? Who reads? Will I update? Probably not. At the moment it seems like a fun way to be able to express myself for all the world to see...but then I realize something, no one will see this. No one will know about this. Therefore, I can logically conclude that no one will read this. I think I have pen and paper blogs already. They are called my journals. Inside their covers I reveal who I am. I can be serious and cry, I can make jokes and laugh, I can be angry and scream. Out here, in the scary wide world of (in all reality, NO one's company) I can not be "real." I will be the public me. Then, that idea makes me wonder and question...will I ever be the private me with another person? (You---although you truly do not exist, I will still type to "you." You will be my blog friend...if ever I type on this blog again.) "You" see where my thoughts are going. And there I will stop....at where you might be able to guess and try to interpret where my thoughts are heading. Whenever I read someone's really wonderful writing (which I just have...let's applaud the talented Ms. Vaughan) I am inspired to be expressionful. (No, that is not a word. This is my blog...stop being so nit-picky. :0) Ugh! Enough of the smileys. Okay? Thanks. This is my way to be expressionful. In my journals I release my thoughts, fears, and hopes to the Lord...kind of to myself. Why do I need others to read my writing? I don't know. To show them that I know how to construct a sentence...ha...ha. So, there you have it. Welcome to my blog. If I come back, good. If not, don't feel pain. Not that you will feel pain because you do not exist. Those who feel pain are those who exist. You are not real, therefore you don't exist, therefore you have no concept of pain. How do I know this is true? I don't. I assume. (You know what that does.) I have never "not existed." Although, how can I know that I truly exist? How can I know that this IS reality? The video game characters might think their world is reality, but it's not. No matter how much we believe something, we might still be wrong. Why does pain have to be experienced only by those we classify as being in the realm of reality? Can you define reality for me? Who I say I am and where I exist (within the realm of reality) depends upon what I percieve from my senses. My senses orginating and forming from my reality tell me what the world (my reality) is and why it is real. "You" could make the same argument for your non-existance. Are we are just a bunch of halograms? What is more real than heaven? Nothing on earth is reality when compared to heaven...and hell...when compared to eternity. If you died NOW, at this very moment, who truly cares what you have done in your life EXCEPT in the areas that have affected your existance in your eternal life? I think that's all what Ecclesiastes is about. Perhaps I will come back here. I greatly enjoy rambling and discussing meaningless items of discussion with myself.