I started blogging nearly 28 years ago. Inspired by a friend, I launched a glorified online journal to force myself into a regular writing rhythm. It worked, and for years I poured my thoughts and imaginings into this online space.

A lot has changed since then. The purpose has long since shifted. When my day job requires hours and hours of writing, I no longer need the outlet for dreams and ideas. Social media has consumed the space and likely corrupted it. Now our dreams and ideas go to those digital spaces to be monetized by corporate behemoths (and quickly forgotten and forsaken).

Yet I stubbornly cling to the form, mainly because I’m not a fan of change. Despite a grand total of three gaps, I’ve managed to blog at least once a month going back to December 1998. I like a good streak.

But sometimes I wonder.

Lately that streak has continued because I force it. It’s not a lively practice, like the original intent. Blogging was always a form of shouting into the void, but these days that void is larger. Sure, an infinite void is an infinite void, but there’s no denying the internet of say 1999 is a different beast than the internet of 2026.

This is where it likely needs to evolve. Or die.

And that’s where I’m trapped in indecision, and so it continues to gasp and shudder.

Perhaps part of my issues is that this has always been a personal space. I’ve been very intentional about not appealing to the masses with a specific slant, a niche or an angle to draw a specific audience. I’m not here to market my words. It’s my random thoughts. That means it’s often just an echo chamber, weird ponderings that rattle around in my head someone making it on to the proverbial page. That’s probably why I changed the name multiple times in the first few years (also: commitment issues).

That puts the whole thing at odds with where the internet is today.

And maybe that’s where it needs to go: Lean into purpose. Rediscover that original ethos and let it be. If that’s not enough, then it truly is time to quit.

So we’ll see.