Sometimes people write me to ask if I wonder or worry about posts that don’t receive any comments. I usually tell them no and most of the time I mean it.
Post without comments are orphans, but they are still well loved and they serve a purpose. Comments are not my form of currency and I don’t measure my success or lack thereof by them.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t want comments or that sometimes I am disappointed when my work isn’t “appreciated” because it is not true. Humans want to feel valued and I am no different than most.
But I write because I love to do this. I write because I get paid to write and this is my cyber sandbox and it is where I work to keep my skills sharp.
I just stumbled onto this particular version of Eli, Eli and I really enjoy it. It reminds me of a million different times and places, but now I am thinking of Jerusalem.
The memories of people who I once knew and in some cases still know wash over me and I am lost in time. There were days where I was a different man than I am now. Can’t say I was better or worse, but definitely different.
That guy had plans to live 10,000 miles from home and would have had a very different life. I wonder what he would have been like and who he would have become. It is part of why I wish I could live to be 1,000 years old because I could have figured that out. I could have continued to take the road less traveled and explored some other places and times.
Instead I am here and most of the time content, but I would not be true to who I am if I didn’t say I have bouts of wanderlust and a desire to hit the open road and just explore the land that lies over there, wherever that may be.
So I suppose that the words I worry most about reading or being read are those written upon my heart.