When no one in the world remembers you anymore, that’s when you truly die.
If there are people in your life who are your audience, let those audiences remember you—they could be family, loved ones, friends, or colleagues.
But if there are no audiences in your life, you might want to leave some evidence that you once lived.
Perhaps, other than yourself, no one will care about the content of your blog.
But at some moment in the past, you were genuinely pondering some questions, genuinely feeling certain emotions.
You can’t share the three ways of writing a recursive function with your lover, nor can you share your insights on love with your colleagues.
You can’t share many of your joys and sorrows with your parents, nor can you expect your relatives to understand your emotions and feelings.
No one in the world will truly understand you, just as you can never truly understand others.
So, record these things and turn them into words, pictures, and videos.
Even if your physical body dies, perhaps someone will still read your words, and you could make a friend across time and space and have a spiritual conversation with them (which is the meaning of books).
If there is already someone who understands you, you don’t need to write anything down—just perform freely and let your audience remember more of you. Maybe you stay within your small social circle, sharing everything you know with everyone. Or maybe you are a successful public figure, in which case, publish more works and opinions, and there will always be followers who remember you.
But if, right now, no one understands you, no one cares about the topics you are concerned about, then write it down and wait a while—maybe someone will discover these historical relics.
Even if it’s just your future self, looking back at who you once were. Even if you’re not the last generation, let your descendants come to know the younger you.
This is the meaning of writing a blog.