Sweet Life of Anonymity


Back in the days of my diary style blog I had lots of readers. If I didn’t post for a while readers would ask me about it while we were running or at a yoga class. These days, not so much. I have a fraction of my previous readership. One reason is that I don’t share it on social media. Another reason is that I’m no longer socially active in the running community or yoga community so I am out of sight and out of mind. And then of course, I am a Facebook fatality, which basically means that since I don’t post on Facebook people assume I am dead. I guess it may also be that wellness as the focus of this blog is a turn-off for my previous readers.

I mention all of this because after blogging for so many years I still imagine people are sitting around wondering things about my blog. I know they aren’t but when I’m prepping to post updates on previous topics or projects my brain defaults to its former settings. When I begin mentally composing a follow-up post it is with the certainty there are people out there waiting for it. Things such as what happened to the posts about her frags?

The brain birth of this post began, “I bet you’re all wondering what happened to the posts about my frags.” It amuses me that I still do this as if my gaggle of avid readers were all still out there and still engaged enough to think about me and the minutiae of my posts. I’m glad I still do it (no plans to change) but I’m well aware this is the online equivalent of writing to imaginary friends. Or perhaps the ghosts of former friends.

Y’all know (the imaginary y’all) I love communicating with the Otherworld, so this imaginary business suits me just fine. And the really long-time readers still around know I’d write for no one at all. The size and caliber of the audience is not critical to the process or the product. To be honest, the reader is always imaginary until the writing is published, so it’s all good.

I never check back to see how many people read a post after it is published. I don’t bother with all that film-flam. There are no notifications turned on for such things. I typically don’t notice at all unless I am in the admin section for some other reason and happen to see the stats in passing. And let me stipulate that followers are not necessarily readers. Those numbers don’t jive. WordPress swears I have 62 followers yet for any given post I have maybe three readers. If WordPress features my post in a feed I might get five reads. If someone shares a post on another site, maybe a few more. So most of the time it’s a truthful statement to say my readers number in an approximate small handful.

But in my imagination there are hundreds of you reading and you are all riveted to the content to the extent you wonder about what I’m not writing as much as what I am. What happened to the posts about my frags? Nothing happened. Or rather, they didn’t happen. They haven’t been happening. I still rip the frags and contemplate them each week but I’ve fallen out of practice of writing about them. Last week’s frags are sitting right in front of me on the small stool I keep in front of my throne. If you click the image you might be able to read them better. And when you do, this post will be relevant to all three of you.

Okay, so maybe you can’t click it to swell it to readability. (Sigh) The frags are Otherworldly and Bliss. Have a blissful day, imaginary friends.

— Mercy

One Comment Add yours

  1. mishedup says:

    We’re al just imaginary friends…some longer than others.
    I’m always surprised at a comment, and always surprisedI don’t have MORE comments, because so many people read my blog!
    I do it for myself and always have.
    Imaginary friends are a not so discerning audience, they don’t expect nor demand a lot.
    Just that we write.’xo


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