So sometimes I wake up in the night in a cold sweat. Different from the usual hot sweat. Thinking what can you be thinking, blogging away, writing and posting for all the world—really—to see? Like standing up in town meeting and talking. Like speaking up pro or con about anything in public. Different from volunteering to bring the cookies next time, or head the committee.

Who cares? Like my favorite blogger wrote , "Just what the World needs... You, talking to yourself. Signifying nothing." But I want to know anything he thinks. I want to read Lisa, Erin, Colleen. Barbaraw47, spyder and countless others over on Blogster, see the photos on photo blogs. My life has been about wanting to know what others think or feel. People all over, out there, are tapping away. Way beyond the station agent and his morse code. Western Union. The postman. Way beyond books and movies.

And why should I care about revealing myself—or one of my selves—when there could be an invisible but highly sophisticated camera in any bathroom stall anywhere? In the store, on the street. Or someone in India selling facts about our lives including social security number for $5.50 a name? There's nowhere to hide. So publish publish publish. And step inside the lives of so many amazing others. No need for an agent. No board of bored professors judging. No degrees or credentials. Just each of us, scanning, choosing. Paying as we go with perhaps the most valuable currency—our time.

Put it out and move on. Travel anywhere, and move on. Somehow, no matter what I read, I recognize parts of myself.