“That’s all she wrote,” he typed; “I wash my hands of it.”
He sat back and considered the cliché he’d opened with, and realized how doing so had proven his point: there was nothing new under the sun worth saying. He was finished blogging forever; finished writing the same old drivel he’d been writing for years in hopes of entertaining some nameless, faceless someone out there who, like himself, had fallen, over the years, almost totally out of love with words.
He felt, as he typed, a growing sense of relief knowing that, by giving up his blogging forever, he was not only removing the burden of trying (and usually failing) to think up some new and interesting daily or weekly topic, he was simultaneously relieving his “readership” of the agony of viewing the spectacle that his failure had become.
By the time he reached his fourth paragraph, the act of typing had become almost painful to him, each keystroke an agony radiating from his keyboarding fingers to his pre-dawn brain which, were it not on autopilot so early in the morning, before its first caffeine fix, would be reeling.
“That’s a big part of the problem,” he concluded; “Everybody’s already written about everything, including the importance of coffee to the well-constructed blog. And they’ve already written about it both before and after their first coffee of the day." Just to be certain of this point, he took a few minutes online to check and—sure enough—almost instantly found six new blog posts with an equal number of references to that first, dark, rich and tasty morning beverage and its vital importance to the furtherance of its parent blog.
This fact, of course, caused him to realize, instantly and with dark shame, that in addition to being one of those who daily foisted drivel upon others, he’d become one of those upon whom drivel had been repeatedly foisted. Worse, it occurred to him that that, over the years, he’d become not only accustomed to but welcoming of that drivel, unable to start his routine mornings without a dose sufficient to fully numb his otherwise agile brain, allowing him to tread out into the wider world fully anesthetized.
“Okay, then,” he typed. “I’m done. Death to Blog.”