I don't why I think that what I'm writing is so important. What is it about a blog that gives me such an air of superiority, one that makes me think that what I have to say is interesting? Because I know that can't be true. At least not all the time. I mean I'm human. I make mistakes. And yet there's something about having a built in audience that has somehow tricked me into thinking that they came here for me, instead of the other way around. So to all of you that were wondering (and as this post has already stated, many of you are not) just know that this hasn't gone to my head. I am one of you, no matter how much it pains me to say it.
And with that, the author stands up, takes a deep breath, and after a count of three, hurls himself into the gaping abyss of mediocrity, never to rise again. How sad.
This is great. I'm not sure what might have induced this almost cathartic reflection of what a blog might do to someone's psyche, or how that connects to the inescapable human form we all take, but this is great.
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