Dear Xanga,

Published July 29, 2010 by ABadKitten

I’ve seen so many people profess to your their love and their hate with reasons varying from friends they’ve made to drama they’ve been caught up in. I’ve read, recommended, and commented on so many of these posts while loving and hating the mixed emotions of these writers and their professions.

Have you ever wondered why you haven’t heard either from me, Xanga? That’s because I neither love nor hate you, you silly piece of pixel. I hate to break your computerized heart, but you’re just a website. I can’t love you and I can’t hate you because these emotions lay elsewhere. I don’t love you, Xanga, but I love those who have made you what you are.

I love the writers that offer me a glimpse of what’s playing out in the mysterious workings of their inner thoughts. The stories they write to take me away from my own reality for a brief while, journeying into their captivating make-believe. You have a way with words that I can only dream about possessing and that I hope, one day, I’ll have the good fortune of coming close to.

I love the poets who express themselves with words so beautiful; poems in which your hearts and souls are open and raw for all judgment, cruel and loving. It’s very often that I find myself searching for the breath that you have effectively stolen away from me.

I love, simply, the people. The people who open the doors to their daily lives and allow us a look through their eyes, to view the world as they see it: beautiful and ugly. Every day is a struggle and a blessing, and no one could understand that without walking a mile in someone else’s shoes.

So, you see why I cannot offer you my own profession of love and hate, my dear friend? Although, you do offer me a place to write my feelings, my thoughts, my stories and my dreams. It’s a place where I, myself, can lend my eyes to others or give them a peek into my own head. I can, then, hear the thoughts and wonderings of those I admire so much in regards to my own work, my own life.

Oh, well maybe that’s just it then, isn’t it? Maybe I do love you, Xanga, but that’s because you wouldn’t be you without everyone here to make you… you. I find now that I can’t help but admit it. You got me. You win.

Don’t let it go to your head, though, and wipe off that tooth-baring grin. You are nothing, in all reality, in every way shape or form of the word “nothing”, without them.

Yours truly,


14 comments on “Dear Xanga,

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