Writing on writing, blogging on blogging

This happens to be my one hundred and fifty-fifth blog post.

Big whoop. It’s just that, by now, the one person who reads Ishmam is probably wondering, “Why does he keep writing?” And frankly, that’s good question.

So, really, why do I blog?

Unfortunately for the reader(s), there are a plethora of reasons, the first of which is this: I actually like writing. Cue gasp. Ever since I could, I’ve liked the way letters look, the way they sound (all cheesiness intended), the way the quirky symbols you’re brushing your eyes over this very instant somehow make sense when woven into words. More importantly, however, is that writing makes thoughts tangible and interpretable. And although I might not be particularly good at it, it’s a way of communicating that happens to be one of my (very few) strengths.

Writing is fun. It makes your emotions, your impressions, your memories, and your passions accessible to people who happen to live outside your brain, that is, people other than yourself. Let’s just put it this way: writing is the epitome of what language ought to be.

I started this blog back in June of 2010. Something that may or may not be surprising to my reader(s) is that I didn’t start this blog because I had to. In other words, it wasn’t the result of blackmail or some required AP Composition assignment (one in the same, right?). And in fact, I have yet to take that class. So, the answer to your question (you never asked one) is, “Yes, I created ishmam.wordpress.com of my own volition.”

But why? Since 9th grade, I’ve been writing for Sun Sailor, a local area newspaper. Occasionally, I crank out stuff about my experiences in school, life as a student, blah, blah, blah, and they stick it in the Opinion section. And, although I don’t get paid, it’s nice to get my voice out into the community, somewhere where my writing is read.

Sun Sailor was fine, and I still write for it, but I needed something more routine, something that would allow me to write on a regular basis, be more personal, and not be confined to a column.

I’d heard of bloggers, the view-hungry producers of stuff that no one reads, the people whose only purpose was to fill gaps in the Internet, the rejected journalists, the failed English majors. At first, I laughed at the idea. Web logging? No.

However, as fate would have it, I coaxed myself into blogging not only because I liked writing but because I wanted to build a personal archive. By assembling a portfolio of my articles, my advice, my anecdotes, and my two cents, I’d be creating a portfolio of myself—available to anyone who’s interested in a convenient, scrollable format. ~~So, in truth, bloggers are just self-glorifying space-wasters.~~