Yesterday I was not happy with my blog 'On Cincinnatus and Julius Caesar. Do selfish genes feel by definition: the chosen ones?'. For me it was a good blog: informative, personal and to the point. I do not really know why I was discontent. In a way my final blog didn't meet the unwritten expectations I had before I wrote one sentence. All I wanted was write about Cincinnatus. And end with the remark that this modest role model male from old Rome is rare is history. After written the first paragraph I was puzzling on the reason why Cincinnatus behaviour is rare in history. Why is power over others addictive and tempting? Why do we want to stay on the top and is it difficult to give power back? To be honest I don't really know. I entered a world full of fat words: groups, aggression and power. I entered a world I not always want to enter: what is a human being? why do we do what we do? how to live my life?
In a couple of weeks I'll be blogging for 1 year. I started blogging after I realized that Twitter's format of 140 characters is too oppressive for me sometimes. In retrospect my main unconscious target past year was: being honest to myself about all the facts, dreams, illusions of life in order to being able to live life. In a way I'm trying to define "life". For me my blog is a mirror. My mirror. My public mirror.
Question: Is my public mirror worth reading? If yes or no: 'why? What blinkers do I have? You can comment on this blog in public or send me a private e-mail.