Portents and Omens

"Where is the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
They have passed like rain on the mountains,
Like wind in the meadow.
The days have gone down in the west,
Behind the hills, into shadow...
How did it come to this?"

I'm in a rather melancholy place today.

So first it was Sarah, and now Jenn. And I must ask myself what this means. And if I should follow suit.

Their reasons held an element of common purpose. They both came to the conclusion that life should be lived in the real world, rather than through the phone line. There are things that they don't want to share with the world. The community of bloggers is too public. And I agree with this ideas.

Jenn said that her blog has been a major part of her life, "as silly or pathetic as it sounds." But it doesn't, Jenn. And that may be because I feel the same way. But in any case, I don't think it's silly. Or pathetic.

There are all these empty chairs around empty tables, bloggers that have gone on to live outside of this little imaginary box of sound and fury. Because they came to the conclusion that in the end, all of their blogged sound and fury signifies nothing. At least, when compared with life and "real" relationships.

As you faithful few know, I'm often floating down the same stream. Me and my silly "bridge". My stupid meaningless site counter that gives me more pride than any imaginary thing should. But the reality of all of this is...people move on. Those of you in high school and college will graduate and "grow up." Those of you who are past college will marry, will have children and/or careers, will get so caught up in living your lives (how dare you!) that blogging will mean less and less, until you forget that you haven't posted in six months or more.

It will happen. This form of communication, this manner of expression, it will pass away, it will become less like art and more like noise. And you'll walk away someday, if you haven't already. So will I.

The million-dollar question: Sooner...or later?

...

Well, I'm still here, aren't I?

Goodbye, Jenn. Good luck. I'll miss hearing about you. --d.