Stream-of-Consciousness: A Blog is a Many Public Thing

Some may argue that all of my blog posts, indeed all of my writing published or otherwise, is entirely stream of consciousness. Boring, absentminded, non-entertaining. This is probably true, if that's how you picture the idea of 'stream of consciousness'. In fact, I'd be one of the first proponents of this argument (the one that my posts are boring, not that stream of consciousness is boring). In distracted exploring of the internet this morning instead of working on my own stuff, I found this lovely blog post on Sometimes Sweet listing some of the author's own blogging ideas for when she's stuck for thought. A lot of them match my own, but number 2 caught my eye: "Stream of Consciousness". She writes:

Sit down and write. Really write. I call this a brain dump and they are my favorite posts to read on others' sites. Talk about your day, your thoughts, what you're dreaming of, what you're scared of. Just write and don't stop for a good 10 minutes.

What an interesting thought, right? Though that's not technically what stream of consciousness is, but that is exactly the effect that it strives for, a kind of rambling, thought-like type of writing with run-on sentences and nonsensical, dreamy ideas. But to write a stream of conscious narrative with absolutely no intended effect can only be described as a brain dump, word vomit, cathartic writer's cleanse, whatever you like. I see the value, and I see the interest, and yet I'm still not sure if I can go about doing it. Here's why.

You see there's something weird about keeping a blog, something that I didn't properly recognize until the other day. To write a stream of consciousness post as Sometimes Sweets intimates is to open yourself up, to lay your inner workings on the cyber platform, for anyone to see and interpret.  I first started my tumblr blog in order to keep my family and friends entertained and informed (but mostly, hopefully entertained) while I frolicked around Ireland. I continued the blog in order to keep that little corner of the internet for myself, kind of like your first house you're all excited to decorate and furnish (I'm renting, so I am only guessing what that's like…). But as my blog writing continues, I'm constantly surprised, and honestly a little taken aback by who's reading it and who's reaching out to me through it. Sometimes my mom surprises me by knowing a lot about silly events in my life: she's been reading my blog. Sometimes my long lost friends give me a ring to say hi: they've been reading my blog. Sometimes the boy forces me to practice driving: he's been reading the blog's bucket list. And sometimes new friends and bloggers reach out to me: they've also been reading the blog.

The weird thing about keeping a blog is not that everyone reads it. I'm flattered and always feel appreciated when someone acknowledges it. What is weird is that it's such a public forum to place your thoughts. It's like posthumous published diaries, except you will deal with the consequences. It's kind of like Facebook, except you get to choose everything about its content and design. It's weird that you can be entirely open and honest, and you can also be perfectly secretive and offensive. There's something about a blog; though you think no one cares to read it, you're entirely wrong. There's something about being able to get inside someone else's head, at least as far as they'll let you, that's entirely fascinating.

Some people read my blog because they know me. Some people read it because they like blogs. Some read it because we have similar interests, and I'm sure some are reading it just because they feel like they just should. But a blog is always what we choose to present, it's never the full story. But somehow, by seeing what it is we choose to present, we do get the full story. A blog, like our public persona, like the person we choose to present to the world, is a representation of ourselves, no matter how much editing we think we have done. How's that for a baffling stream of consciousness?