Blogging has been something very positive for me, overwhelmingly so, I would say.
I began to blog in the first place because a new friend, whose posts had touched me, urged me to create a chronicle of my own and document my thoughts, experiences, and day-to-day life.
I've always been a journaling type of person, but before, no one spoke back. There is a great satisfaction to sitting down and penning out your innermost thoughts in the pages of a book, but the book at the end of the day is just binding, paste, plastic, and paper. It can't respond to you.
It can bring the past alive in wondrous color years later, it can hold some of your darkest secrets, but it can't reach out to you when you're crying or congratulate you when you're happy.
Blogging allows for community. I've gotten advice, words of salutation, comfort, and a wonderful sense of inclusion from the many kind people I've met here.
Tonight, that experience was altered somewhat.
Several days ago, I was reading a blog post that touched on a certain social issue. I will not reveal the name of the blogger or precisely what was being discussed, because I don't believe in that sort of thing. There is no point to publicly flogging someone online.
I disagreed with this person's stance and told him so in a polite way, commenting that I thought his attitude on the subject was immature and disappointing. I expected, obviously, a response, but something more in the line of political debate than what I actually got.
On his own blog, he told me essentially to shut my mouth about things I didn't understand (not in those words, but that was the gist of it), and outlined why he thought my opinion was wrong.
This was his right and I took no issue with it.
The scathing and vulgar personal letter that he soon sent my e-mail account, though, was a shock that upset me enough to literally make me shake.
Here are some excerpts of that letter:
"Perhaps if you didn't live in Backward United States (the SOUTH), then you would learn a lot more about the world.
And if you choose to blog about this or talk about me negatively, then I will have no choice but to talk to Blogger about blcoking you from my blog and, perhaps, having your post removed if any such thing occurs."
So, he's basically banned me from discussing what he's done. I hadn't initially planned to post on this very distasteful topic, but once I got to that part of the letter my mind had been made up for me.
"And you thought I was immature."
This he followed with an injunction that I should perform oral sex on him.
"Well, I guess I am immature. But at the end of the day: I can afford -------, live a satisfying life, have parents who have jobs and their home, live in ----------, have socially progressive ideas, love life, and am not afraid to show my face on the Internet. And at the end of the day, you are just a psychologically disturbed boy who hates life and thinks he is too intellectual to be associated with your brother or most of society.
"I pity you."
This didn't exactly make my night.