Void

Every year on my birthday, I go off by myself and watch "1776." Being born on Independence Day, I've heard the same cliche my entire life: "Oh, you're so special, the whole country celebrates your birthday." (People are the same the world over, and cliches are unlimited by time or space.) I know it's a musical and subject to Hollywood-y influence; but I like to think it embodies a lot of the tension and frustration and agony that went into creating this country. It's refreshing to think that this land wasn't always the "land of opportunity," that we came from a rebellion, and we were formed by arguments.
There's a scene toward the end where the Secretary of the Continental Congress is reading a dispatch from General Washington, and he sings the general's words: "Is anybody there? Does anybody care?" It's a simple, three-tone melody, sung in a dark, solemn room. You can practically feel Washington's desperation through his words: is anybody paying attention to what I'm saying?

I thought about that scene when I was starting this blog. I wonder if there's any point. I watch the page-view statistics; I see the single-digit view-counts on each post. I feel like Meg Ryan in "You've Got Mail", sending her words out into the void to some unknown reader. I've been told to give myself more credit for what I write, that I have something to say and say it in a nice way. But my greatest fear is to be selfish and credit-seeking; I'm not the type to demand to be listened to, because I shrink back into my natural "please, please, please don't pay attention to me" shell when the spotlight suddenly focuses on me. But I wonder if anything I post on here makes someone think, makes someone laugh, makes someone pensive. Is there a reason? Is it doing any good?

Is anybody there?

Does anybody care?