Relurking

"Delurking," if you say it enough times, may be one of the weirder neologisms to arise from the online Scene. Of course, even in my years as a lurker, I didn't consider myself a lurker -- rather, simply a Discreet Member of the Reading Public. 'Lurker' has such a lecherous sound, doesn't it? And of course there is nothing remotely lecherous about me or my internet habits.

Then came the delurking, a process of fits-and-starts that could be said to in some ways mirror the process of coming out as queer/bi/fluid/kinsey 3.84932. But eventually I was fully delurked, with a Fetlife Profile and my own kinky blog and even real-life friends and playdates. Snaaap! An active, somewhat-less-discreet community member at last.

Then came the relurking.

Turns out, you're not 'once-delurked-always-delurked': the process continues. I'm a lurker. I have been for awhile. The blog's fallen into neglect, I let my bloggerversary sail by without a word, I go for periods without checking the internet scene at all (usually due to... a lack of internet) and when I do read the blogs, I don't leave comments. I've reached a state of lurker-complacency, and I can't say how long it will last.

As Abel pointed out not so long ago, I'm not the only blogger who's gone quiet of late: Of course, many of those authors haven't slunk back to their lechery shadows, but have joined the Twittering throng. Twitter! This is all your wicked doing.

Well, not really. My hiatus has more to do with my personal habits and needs than Twitter's ascendancy, I'm sure, but it does make a great scapegoat. The solution to my silence isn't joining up, though -- Twitter doesn't work for me, despite its one-liney charms. I don't have portable internet and I don't want to become attached to portable internet. I think what I really want, if I reflect honestly enough, is a community of in-the-flesh kinky friends and a lifestyle of semi-regular action. Knowing that this is geographically impossible (pending eventual transatlantic relocation), I've opted to pull back rather than aggravate the itch by throwing myself into the virtual world. (I've also opted to mix many a metaphor.)

I recognize that Twitter works well for long-distance friends who want to stay in touch, but I hope it doesn't completely obliterate blogs. Whatever the platform's advantages, it could never do what this blog did for me. I began the S Word because I wanted to start making kinky friends, and to do this I first had to show people who I was. Maybe there are Twitter virtuosos who know how to do this via the Tweet, but I don't think it's quite the same.

Anway. How did this turn into a diatribe against Twitter? What I meant to say was... Well, I'm not sure. That I'm a Lurker? That was perhaps evident from my very shoddy blogging record. I will tell you that the story I promised in the previous post is being written and will appear here at some point... Though I must ask, how long does a spanking story have to be before it's classified as a spanking novella? Follow-up question: How much spanking does said novella have to contain for it to be considered a spanking novella, and not just a very long story with some plot-related CP action? You've been warned.

So. Do you ever find yourself relurking? Is lurkhood an unceasing cycle, much like the tides? Will you be willing to read a long-ass story about a sci-fi geek who may or may not spank or be spanked? Cause, that'll probably be my next post.
...Eventually.