I logged into google reader after quite a long time today. As I expected, there were more than 3000+ unread items, a predictable consequence after I went on a spree of adding lots of blogs and news sites in the days when reading stuff written by strangers about themselves was about my only human contact. My own version of Das Leben der Anderen, if you will.
Reading all that was an impossible task, so all the news feeds were dealt with by a Shift+A (mark all as read), but for some reason, I just scrolled through the 'Personal Blogs' category that I had made, pausing to catch a sentence or two as they flew past.
Out of those, something about this post made me pause and read it in its entirety. I won't say that I identify with it, but in a way that is hard to explain, I sort of do. But one of the few times I turned emotions into actions, something went very wrong. Perhaps, in a way, it was my fault because the dishes were a metaphor for everything else and the emotions were misplaced. They needed an audience, but an audience that understood.
Reading all that was an impossible task, so all the news feeds were dealt with by a Shift+A (mark all as read), but for some reason, I just scrolled through the 'Personal Blogs' category that I had made, pausing to catch a sentence or two as they flew past.
Out of those, something about this post made me pause and read it in its entirety. I won't say that I identify with it, but in a way that is hard to explain, I sort of do. But one of the few times I turned emotions into actions, something went very wrong. Perhaps, in a way, it was my fault because the dishes were a metaphor for everything else and the emotions were misplaced. They needed an audience, but an audience that understood.
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