blogging about blogging about blogging

this is my alchemical language lab/experimental blogging playground after all…

I approached this from a different angle yesterday, but I think this is closer to what I’m aiming for in 2025. I may also make some adjustments to the design and function so the blog supports my vision of blogging in 20225.

some thoughts i captured on the way back from the gym about this post:

ok let’s get into it…

Blogging about blogging is a strange, recursive act. It’s a bit like standing between two mirrors and watching your reflection spiral into infinity. Writing this post, I can’t help but feel like I’m being watched—not by you, the reader, but by the blog itself. A living, shifting entity that’s as much a part of me as it is its own thing.

This is a post about what blogging could be, filtered through the act of blogging about what blogging is. A kind of metablog manifesto, if you will—a reflection on how my blogging process is evolving, told in real time as it unfolds.

blogging as reflection and refraction

Every blog post I write reflects something of myself: an idea, a question, a moment. But it’s never a perfect reflection. The act of blogging distorts, refracts, fragments. A thought that felt clear in my head becomes murky once it hits the page. And that murkiness—what I once saw as a flaw—has become the thing I want to lean into.

Blogging about blogging reveals the gaps in the process. The seams where coherence falters and the raw texture of thought peeks through. Those moments are what excite me most—the moments when a blog post stops being a polished product and becomes a living, breathing thing.

fragmentation as blogging’s native form

Blog posts are already fragments. The internet, as a medium, doesn’t lend itself to the complete or the cohesive. It’s a web, not a straight line. Links branch out in every direction, inviting readers to wander, to get lost, to follow their curiosity wherever it leads.

When I think about blogging now, I see it as inherently fragmented. A post doesn’t need to be an essay with a clear beginning, middle, and end. It can be a dérive—a wandering exploration of thought and language. A single post might hold a memory, a philosophical tangent, a snippet of poetry, and a link to a related article.

Even this post is fragmented. It loops back on itself, folding in layers of reflection. I’m blogging about how I want to blog, even as I experiment with blogging in the way I’m describing.

the blog as a liminal space

A blog isn’t just a collection of posts. It’s a space—liminal, shifting, always in flux. When I log in to write, I feel like I’m stepping into that space, like entering a room that rearranges itself each time I visit.

Right now, my blog feels like a library. Some shelves are neatly organised; others are chaotic, filled with loose pages and half-finished ideas. I want to embrace that chaos. To let the blog grow organically, like a garden where weeds and wildflowers have as much value as the carefully tended rows.

In this way, metablogging becomes an act of tending. I’m writing not just for an audience but for the blog itself, shaping it as I go.

blogging as process

One of the things I love most about blogging is its immediacy. It’s not like writing a book, where you toil in isolation (something I dread) until the final draft is perfect. Blogging (in my mind) is raw, iterative, and messy.

Writing this post feels like blogging in its purest form. I’m thinking out loud, capturing thoughts as they arise, letting the process shape the product. This post isn’t just about fragmented paths; it is a fragmented path, weaving between meta-reflection, practical ideas, and philosophical musings.

In this way, metablogging mirrors life. It’s not about arrival; it’s about the act of moving forward, one step—or one post—at a time.

the reader’s role

If you’re still here, reading, you’re part of this process. Blogging isn’t a one-way street; it’s a conversation. When I write about blogging, I’m writing to you—not just to tell you what I think but to invite you to think alongside me.

The hyperlinks scattered through my posts aren’t just there to provide context. They’re invitations. Portals. Breadcrumbs leading to new ideas, new connections. When you click, when you explore, you become a co-creator of the blog.

Even your act of reading shapes this space. Your presence here changes what the blog is and what it can become.

experimenting with form

blogging about blogging
about blogging opens the door
to experimentation.

i don’t need to stick
to traditional forms I can
try a collage post,

where fragments sit side by side,
creating resonance through juxtaposition.

or a braided essay that weaves
multiple threads together.

or even a post that’s just a list of questions,
leaving the answers to the reader.

This post itself is an experiment. A metablog written in fragments, reflecting on fragmentation. An essay that loops back on itself, circling the idea of blogging as a process.

the blog as a living archive

Ultimately, I want my blog to feel alive. Not a static repository of information but a living archive—a space that evolves as I do. Metablogging helps me see the blog for what it is: a reflection of my thinking, my curiosity, and my growth.

When I write about blogging, I’m not just describing a process. I’m shaping it. This post isn’t just a manifesto; it’s a moment in time, a snapshot of where I am right now.

a way forward

I don’t know where this path will lead. But I do know that blogging—especially metablogging—feels like the right way to explore it. Writing about blogging is a way of thinking through blogging and discovering what it can be.

So here’s to metablogging. To blogging about blogging about blogging. To fragments and hyperlinks, to wandering paths and unfinished thoughts.

If you’re reading this, you’re part of the journey. And for that, I’m grateful. Let’s see where the next step takes us.