I've always been a talker. I talk to strangers in slow-moving lines as we wait; I talk to little children who catch my eye, as they sit in grocery carts like animated dolls; I talk to my microwave when it bongs incessantly because I haven't retrieved my food (I actually don't use nice words either...)
But mostly, I talk to myself. I know I'll always get an answer I can agree with and no argument, in most cases.
I have this theory that has been percolating now for a number of months; dating back to the first days of this blog page, actually.
I believe all blog posts are merely the writer's unique way to talk to themselves about the experiences of life that have affected them and there's no one else to tell them to because they just won't listen, or just don't care!
So there you have it! The blog is the creation of needy people, who just want to be heard and not criticized (at least not to their face) by people who are indifferent, uncaring, or just plain too bored with life around them, to think of anything to say about living.
Now, it isn't usually my practice to employ so many run-on sentences, but some of my favorite authors do that all the time (Cormac McCarthy, of "All the Pretty Horses" fame, for one). But then, here I am, just talking to myself again so it doesn't really matter.
I really feel better after posting my blog, so I think I've proven its therapeutic attributes at least to myself. After all, talking to myself guarantees a captive audience. something every author lives for!