Because it's my reality.

I'm focused. On life. My life. And what's happening. And how I'm affected by it. I put it in writing. And in so doing, I am creating a story. My reality. This stuff...these thoughts...become my existence. I am alive and conscious. And this blog is living proof. I am here. I exist. In the moment. But so do others. Significant others. Anyone I write about...or to...is significant. Even if I don't put it in my blog. But rather in love letters. To my true love. Or in emails. To my friends. And acquaintances. I've posted over 5,000 threads in my blog. I've written over 8,000 emails in recent years. Some lengthy. Some short. With observations about life. I've written thousands of stories published in newspapers. But the essence of what I have to say is in this blog. This is where I declare who and what I am. A romantic idealist. A spiritual free-thinker. A political liberal. A lover. A dreamer. I define myself. Rather than leave that up to others. That's the wonder of the modern age. The technology that allows me to move about the world. To connect. Daily. With my Italian true love. Even when she lives in Sardinia. And I live in Minnesota. Different sides of the world. And I choose, too, to share it all with strangers. Random strangers. Random thoughts. Passing through my life. Occasionally, we connect. In meaningful ways. Maybe only for minutes. But then, a handful of strangers have become friends. Even a true love. By happenstance. Or grand design. I suspect it's the latter. And so I write about it. For the sake of substance. It's better than living in a novel. Because it's my reality. --Jim Broede