Wow, I have had my first official comment posted by someone I don't know! But it couldn't have come at a worse time, as I am beginning to reassess my loquaciousness.
You see, here is the process I go through with people: I am introduced and am quite taciturn. They take a liking to me and we become friends. The friendship softens me up and I start saying whatever I feel like saying. They say, "I didn't know my new friend was so retarded," and our friendship quickly ends.
Just this week I have seen the signs of the old familiar pattern at church and at work. I can be fairly popular for a few weeks, but never much longer than that.
Isn't a blog the ultimate form of loquaciousness, the non-famous way to reveal way too much information? Celebrities call up Oprah, but the rest of us go running to our keyboards. If Tom Cruise weren't Tom Cruise, but instead had remained Thomas Cruise Mapother IV, his anti-everything ravings would be nothing more than a seldom-frequented blog. And I know seldom-frequented blogs.
Why are humans so unable to deal with the concept of obscurity? Why do I have a systematic revulsion to the notion of being nothing more than an unattended tombstone? I went into work one day and thought, "Fifty more years of this?" and within a few months I had quit.
So some stranger has read my blog and I think I am achieving success. But I'm no Tom Cruise. Tom Mapother, maybe, but not Tom Cruise.