One of the things I have come to expect is that some days will be good, some days not so good regarding traffic to my blog. The other thing I figured out quickly is that lots of blogs have way more traffic than I'll ever have. I do not know if it is marketing, more effective use of tags, topicality, seasonality, whatever. I muse over traffic from time to time, in an abstract, philosophical way. I've also talked about traffic here.
The internet to me is this huge ocean with the tide lapping up against the shore of my blog. Sometimes the waves come in stronger than others, washing up higher on the sand. Then I get to walk along the shoreline and look for the nuggets of treasure washed up and left behind for me to behold. Comments, something to respond to, some evidence that someone has not just been to your page, has not just read it; but has taken the time to process your thoughts and respond to
them. Someone has left behind a seashell, you pick it up and hear echoes of the internet in it. That vast ocean just reaching out from you standing on its edge, going out across and beyond the horizon.
I have also convinced myself that traffic is not personal, it comes and goes and really does not think about you all that much in the process. Maybe that is a cynical position, but I would love to hear your thoughts, your personal echo of the internet I pick up as a seashell out of the sand at the feet of my blog.
I listen to your thoughts on my thoughts as the sun begins to set.
Sunset is my favorite time at the beach and on the internet.
Based on those last two lines, I have no idea where this post is going so I am stopping now.
The internet to me is this huge ocean with the tide lapping up against the shore of my blog. Sometimes the waves come in stronger than others, washing up higher on the sand. Then I get to walk along the shoreline and look for the nuggets of treasure washed up and left behind for me to behold. Comments, something to respond to, some evidence that someone has not just been to your page, has not just read it; but has taken the time to process your thoughts and respond to
them. Someone has left behind a seashell, you pick it up and hear echoes of the internet in it. That vast ocean just reaching out from you standing on its edge, going out across and beyond the horizon.
I have also convinced myself that traffic is not personal, it comes and goes and really does not think about you all that much in the process. Maybe that is a cynical position, but I would love to hear your thoughts, your personal echo of the internet I pick up as a seashell out of the sand at the feet of my blog.
I listen to your thoughts on my thoughts as the sun begins to set.
Sunset is my favorite time at the beach and on the internet.
Based on those last two lines, I have no idea where this post is going so I am stopping now.
