It seems to me that everyone has a story to share. I think that's part of the reason why so many people, myself included, enjoy blogging, or simply journalling. Many of us like to document the interesting things that have happened to us, whether for others to read, or for ourselves to look back on and reminisce.
Let's face it: most of us are interested in other people's lives. Why else do we read gossip magazines, watch reality shows, or personal documentaries? Okay, I can't say I do any of those things, but I read some autobiographies, attend social events where I can chat to people, and listen to interviews on the radio.
Today I saw an interesting exhibition whereby many, many people had been interviewed, and their responses were posted on a slideshow along with a picture of themselves. The picture was revealed before the responses, so we had a brief moment to analyse each individual from the photo before we even knew anything about them. Although their responses were short and limited, it began to dawn on me how many lives there are in the world, and how many stories there are waiting to be shared.
Another part of the exhibition consisted of several photographs of signs and captions, some of which were graffiti. One of these was a child's picture, another a public safety notice, and still another of two names etched into a tree along with a heart. Again, I pondered the stories that lie behind these mere images.
Our lives read as one long story, consisting of a sequence of episodes that add colour and change our day to day existence, taking us somewhere in life. What am I doing on here? I am simply making my story available to anyone who wishes to read it.