I know for some the blogging world is it, it is the greatest thing on this earth to them. They blog they post they build their likes and followers. It is like their home that means so much to them creating and beatifying it so the world of people will think they are grand. If I am wrong correct me. Why do you blog?
I myself find it to be a fraud. It makes you want to be popular, and so you post hoping for likes and followers, in some cases it may put money in your pocket. But in my case which may be rare, I find likes aren’t that great after all. They don’t make you popular, at least in my case, which is fine with me. The followers aren’t really followers, they don’t hang out, they just go away.
Maybe I got the wrong idea of the blogging world and thought this is where I would feel a part of the world. Really all it has done is cause bitterness inside and makes me want to puke. In others words it doesn’t nourish me the why the great outdoors does. Tending the garden and the animals on my little farm. I find I don’t accomplish much in the way of creativity sitting at the computer day after day, hoping to build a world I don’t have a part in. So I have chosen to go away into my world, where I can prove my worth, loving my little farm, tending my garden and feeding my flock who in turn feed me. Some come from good seed.
If you ever find you are malnourished try planting a good seed and watch it grow, or take a walk in woods on nature trails and listen to the birds and crickets, and smell the sweet fresh air as it enters your lungs. This is life, a beautiful life, just waiting for the lost to come home and tend their garden of the earth. If during your travels you take in the beauties of the world, remember, someone tended the garden that delights you.
In your travels if you ever pass by my home and are hungry, remember I will always find a place at the table for you, to sit, but remember after doing so, you too, must provide another a place at your home, for the traveler to rest. Soon it will become apparent to the world in which we live, how the world grows out of the dark and into the light of love, as it spreads, casting the dark out of our world out of our place of rest, in which we live. It first requires going home inside. This is where we choose to make our home.
May your garden grow from the good seed, planted in you.
If you care to reach me try firstname.lastname@example.org just mention in subject billiescauldron so I know where you came from. There I can and will be a friend if you choose to remain.