My own personal purgatory - Tondal's vision...

I am beginning to dread the word blog. It runs through my mind from the moment I awake until I a fall into my blog-ridden nightmarish sleep and then it wakes me up with a start each morning – ‘what will I blog about today?’

Sounds funny, but it isn’t.

It happened again this morning. No surprise there, one morning is pretty much like another; I get up, I do a series of quite pointless activities, I have a meal and I go to bed. Perhaps the most pointless of my daily activity is blogging, but I find myself pouring over it for hour after hour, words and pictures and photographs, recycling the same tired ideas as if I am on a mission. Well, there’s no mission, I’m not achieving anything. It’s just a way of lifting my own battered ego for a few moments. Of course it never works. Why would it?

So why do I do it? Well, I’ve tried to answer this question before but partly it’s compulsion. Without churning out these few words I feel undefined. If I miss a day, which I increasingly do, I feel guilty that I’ve lost an opportunity, although God knows what that opportunity was. And then of course there is my own ongoing internal dialogue, the one that wakes me up each morning asking ‘what will I blog about today?’

Sounds funny, but it isn’t.

Sometimes I think I’d be better off reading a book or watching daytime television – anything but blogging away to myself in my own little corner of purgatory desperate for someone to notice me, even if it does mean me moving on and finding myself in hell.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe blogging is my own personal hell.