Internet Connections

Project 15 - Day 102

I spend entirely too much time on the internet. Early every morning I can be found sitting in my spot at the end of the couch, coffee in hand, checking in with all of my internet friends. Most of whom I have never met, nor will I ever meet, but am connected to through this bizarre thing called the web. My list of favorite sites is growing so long that I'm certain with just one more addition it will reach out and touch the coast of China.

My taste is eclectic yet consistent, or consistently eclectic. You can translate that to mean most of the blogs I follow are related in some way to photography. Some are landscape and nature photographers, some children and family portrait stars or wedding photogs. Some are friends and family. Some just random blog sites I have stumbled upon while surfing the net. All are read eagerly in big greedy gulps. When something touches me I reread the entry sipping and savoring the words or photos as one might enjoy a fine wine.

However, I am a lurker, a blog stalker. One who tunes in day in and day out to see what's new and never posts a comment. Never. I don't tell them how much I love their photographs or their words. I sneak around like a voyeur peering through the window of their lives. I laugh with them and sometimes shed a tear with them. But I never post a comment. (Unless PW is having a contest giving away Nikon lenses or Kitchen Aide mixers. I can find my voice in a big hurry for a free lens.)

I don't know what this all means. What it says about me as a person. I live vicariously through the internet, through the lives of people I don't know. People I will never know. People who are safe. People who require nothing of me. People who will not miss me if I don't show up one day. Unless they are checking in with Google Analytics. Then I might be missed. There may be a lone blogger out there who would stop and ponder what has happened to the viewer from Marco Island who visits every day and never posts. It's a comforting thought, one I think I will hold on to before I fall into the deep depression that is hovering on the horizon.

Whew, I'm glad I got that off of my chest. This is all too deep for my feeble brain, and somewhat pitiful. Maybe I ought to try getting out of the house a little more. Buy a camera. Take up photography. Start a blog.

I'll have to give it some thought.