self-publishing in your underwear.

such a wonderful thing, this blogging. so much for publishing yourself in your underwear, heck you could go without any like john mayer writing songs naked in his bathtub. but blogging, i believe, can never get any more naked as it is a baring of the soul. each blog is just a spec in cyberspace; some may shine brighter than the others, but each equally telling us that we're all bound by the same "thing" that makes us flinch in our beds at night. call it grief, angst, joy, pain, peace... all which we release as our musings, meanderings, ramblings, poetry, quips, or just blunt exclamation marks.

for me, the beauty-slash-irony of blogging is that it enables us to announce ourselves to the world without really revealing our identities (or our real names and faces anyway). of course, there are the some who'd place their pictures, shout out their names. call it narcissism? nah! valiance, i think is the more appropriate term. not that the ones who prefer  anonymity don't have the same courage. it's not cowardice but what i call one of the comforts of being invisible. and just as i prefer reading a good story over seeing it on television, i have taken a liking for bloggers who paint images of themselves through words. there's always that thrill of the mystery and of how a person could be more alive when painted by your imagination.

at times, i'd be wondering whether transience's breasts were sexier than her brain (her male readers could answer that), or whether akira really has the look (or charm) that could make me agree to his claim of being a heartbreaker. i'm sure i'd have great conversations with t, gab, and cher about anything from cats, to relationships... anything mundane and everything female. i could mention hundreds of these bloggers who would always keep me wondering how they look like and how they could engross me into such intellectual intercourses, or maybe just the one-way intellectual self-gratification.  

i am proud of being a blogger. it gives me that natural high. for when you go out there, don't you feel like wearing that secret smile, or that certain tingle or thrill that the person next in line to you in the coffee shop, or on the other side of the shelf in the bookstore could be your favorite blogger? with this, i'd be looking at every stranger with a faint, hopeful smile.