There's something to be said about reading about people's lives. Some people brush off their activities, preferring to jump into what they were thinking about rather than their physical actions, some people will linger on the smallest details. Some people manage to make their lives sound like novels and some people are abrupt and funny and satirical.
I mentioned Neil Gaiman because, reading his blog, I felt so comfortable. There are some blogs that are "informative". You read them like a newsletter. There are blogs that are deeply personal, almost exclusively so, making references and in-jokes that no one but the author understands. There are blogs filled with random thoughts, or carefully crafted humor. Gaiman's blog felt like a conversation, like a storyteller weaving his magic about the simplest things, which is what it was. And it was beautiful, even when it talked about things that I didn't understand because I have no history with them. The entire thing felt so careful and yet so relaxed. It made me happy just to read it, even without context to what he was writing about.
I have a hard time writing about myself in anything that resembles beautiful writing. I feel presumptuous when I do so, like my life is too boring, too mundane, and trying to add deeper meaning makes it silly and that I'm silly for doing so. But at the same time, I want to talk about the little things I notice, tie my life together into a story, write something that will take people's breath away. But I don't know if that's me, if that's my voice. Perhaps that's something I can cultivate.
All I can say is thank you to the people who bring us the internet. It is such an amazing thing in being able to read the wisdom and nonsense of others, as well as put out my own musings and scribblings.