17 years of blogging

I started this 17 years ago today.

I’m aiming to avoid making my 18th the quietest yet. The idea of using AI to spew words for me is silly. What you see here will always be what I typed. 

The writing now is not bloggable anymore. It’s practical, logistical and personal for the exhibitionism required. The personal writing has hit its stride. It’s now a part of what I must do each day.

After 4 year of tracking my daily writing habit, I’m close to the first half a million words.

The word counts per month have gone up. 

That isn’t evident in this blog. The typical word for it would be dead than dormant. The voices leave me in peace aside from the occasional nudge. Yet I remain grateful for it.

The push of madly free regular writing created transformative regular practice. It was swept along by a now long dead culture of bloggers that unwittingly inspired each other. Even though they are quiet, I’m grateful particularly the drummer, the jester, Janith, green tea, the gutter flower and the others including the grand old man of Sri Lankan blogging (you know who he is). 

Many who inspired and encouraged me have gone quiet. Too many have hidden their treasures. All that’s left is this snapshot of the “old days”. By virtue of taking a few steps a year, I’m a survivor. Thankfully there are a few others keeping to the form. 

I remain amazed and blessed by the effect of regular writing does to what goes on in the head. It’s too profound to describe. So I won’t bore you with the details. Other than to say – write something coherent of at least 108 words a day. Keep at it for at least 4 years. Track what you produce. 17 years what you get is a wonderful blessing from your past self.