As I write my life’s stories
Over the past few years that I have been writing, this blog has evolved into a potpourri of ideas. There are pictures, life lessons and things that are on my mind. There are stories from my day-to-day life and sometimes from my past. This blog hasn’t got a niche of its own. There is food but no recipes. Travel stories with mediocre phone pictures. Photo posts and microblogs. Mundane thoughts and miniature writings, recently. I love it this way and I can write everything that I feel like. Nothing stops me from pouring my heart out there because this blog is mine. If you are a blogger and reading this, you sure know what I mean.
Very recently, I realized that my personal posts get the most love. Shares, comments, and footprints are huge when I write about things that are close to my heart. My family, childhood and the likes. I always wonder why?
- Personal stories are just stories. No one even knows if they are true.
- Do people find themselves when they read someone’s past?
- Is there an inspiration that readers are looking for?
- Is it the relatability factor that binds them to the post?
Sometimes I think I know the answer and many times I wonder. I have seen readers feel connected to a memory that could be same as mine. It also could be the imagination that leads them to a time zone that’s different. Could be something else as well.
As I think of it, I am convinced I am writing for myself. I want to read all these posts many more times again. And think of the days I sat in the living room typing each word out there. Of the days I was always fighting time. Going over the good times of life and drawing inspiration from there. As I step into a day not known, I see beauty in the day gone by. My personal stories will not die with me and will live longer. They will make some new reader giggle or smile with love. Someone will then hit the “Who’s Writing?” page and know who wrote all this. I am just telling this story from that day.
The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.
― Terry Pratchett
For day 27 of #NaBloPoMo, this is a free write and a ramble.