Profile Count

Who view me? Who would want to view me? I wonder, at times, what is so interesting about reading ramblings from my inconsistent mind? Out of curiosity, I would sometimes come over this page and check the count of my profile views. Most of the time, it just increases by a mere one. That one climb, of course, is supplied by myself.

Yet, not once or twice, more than that, I have noticed that the increase would be more than one count. Anything more than one, meant that someone else had, in between my logins, viewed my profile. I would get excited with that thought. I cannot fathom why but I do. Perhaps, I just cannot believe that anyone else, people unknown to me, of me, would be interested enough to stop by here, and be coaxed enough to view my profile.

I am not stupid. I know that those detours does not point to being interested in the posts. They might be just like me, clicking the 'next blog' button' and mine happened to be it. Simple as that. Or perhaps, google came up with the link to my blog during one of the searches by it's devotees on some subject which I had touched and defaced. That could also be it.

But profile count doesn't increase with those, if I'm not wrong. It increases only if your profile page has been checked out. This puzzles to me. I check out other profiles because, upon stumbling on their pages and reading excerpts or viewing some lovely pictures, I would wonder who did all those interesting posts and thus, my fingers would just automatically click the profile view. I am that 'kaypoh' or busybody, yes. If it doesn't hold my interest, I don't. Instead, I go for the next blog, and the next, and the next. You get the idea.

So, back to the topic again, an increase in my profile count meant that someone actually viewed my profile page. Which translates to someone out there had actually been interested enough to know what kind of person upkeeps this blog. Or perhaps, they were just exercising their fingers. Or perhaps, they were just like me, busy-bodying, fiddling around. Or it might be worse. I shudder at that possibility. Keep it simple.

To be interested to know the who, you have to read what the who wrote. Maybe not all but at least, a sentence or two. Which meant that someone, unknown to me, read me. Read my writings. They were, of course, either, one, bored and uninterested, or two, very bored and very uninterested, for none of them brought me along as their daily escapades, so far. It's expected, I'm not heartbroken.

I know. It's like being in a cafe that looked nice from the outside. Once you ordered and the food came, you wished you had gone for the one opposite, instead. The food were too stale, and the drinks were just too watery. And all overpriced. Isn't?

Still, it is my pleasure to say thank you for the stop. No money collected, so go along, why not? Smile and have a nice day!