Recently, someone left an anonymous smiley as a comment on a post on my blog. I immediately instituted inquiries with the regular followers (those known to me, at least. I'm hoping there are many more of you out there who wait with bated breath for new posts) of my blog if any of them were the source of that smiley. Having found not one person yet who has claimed responsibility for the smiley, I am more than curious about where it came from. It made me think who or what I write for and I came to the conclusion, that pretty much everything I do in life, is with an audience in mind.

Yet, most of what I write does not go up on any public space, it is reserved for private consumption only. My best pieces of writing, which I have noticed are intensely personal, though not necessarily about but more often connected to my own life, are reserved for select few, shared via e-mails and chats or read in private. Nothing, I noticed a few days back, gives an indication of my regard for people as much as the amount of my writing I share with them. Writing is, for me, something that keeps me me sane. If you are privy to what I write, chances are that I will do as much for you as I can for anyone, it's a good measure of how much I care about you. This is all, a little strange, I think.