Is it weird that I like to read blogs of random people I have never met? It is strange that I am comforted by their stories of life and living? Laughing and crying? Joy and suffering? Is it odd that I am encouraged by the normalness of life? How come we don’t have conversations like this in real life? Or does it just seem that way? Why do we all wear masks as if we are competing to see who can be the most fake?
I am tired. I should work on my paper some more but I don’t think I can concentrate any longer. I think I will go to bed. Hopefully I will not regret that.