questioning

my last post depressed me. why did i write? the question dully aches at the back of my head. i've also been thinking about blogs and my blog in particular. why blog. seriously, why do i blog. not to communicate - i have quite consciously kept it quiet; not for catharsis-way too scary; creative writing? nah most of the stuff is autobiographical; and not to comment on the state of the world - i'm too full of doubt for that.
been surfing blogs all afternoon - listening in on endless conversations, people to people, sometimes friends, sometimes strangers, individuals to self, and i've fallen in love with the internet all over again. but it's got me looking at the diaries again. identity crisis i guess. but crisis is good, no? in some cultures it means growth, i think.