Blogging Blows

Like independence, I came to blogging late in life. Journals and scrap books were sufficiently enjoyable teenage passtimes, but when the hormones settled so did the urge to write.

My laptop keeps me plugged into the matrix for times when the indulgent id resurfaces. Of course, never underestimate the ability of the ego and superego to interfere with the single-mindedness of the id. That nonwithstanding, the id can be persuasive, powerful, even seductive.

Blogging blows doors off any diary. It's a happy place where any stream of consciousness goes. Or is that blows?