Indecision

This is a bit of an odd one. Not only have I had difficulty deciding what to do, if anything, about this particular issue, I've even been vacillating about whether to blog about it. It's been niggling at me nearly all day, though, and it's got to the stage where I need to get it out of my head, somehow, if I can, writing about it seeming as good a way as any, I guess.
There's a blog I've been following for some time. I read most of the entries, which are pretty regular, but I don't comment very often, perhaps only half a dozen times in total. When I first came across the blog, it seemed to be the product of someone who came across as fun, intelligent and interesting, the sort of person it might be pleasant to be able to meet and get to know in reality. Of late, though, maybe over the past twelve months, but at an accelerating pace more recently, his views seem to have taken a distinct lurch both to the political right - many of his posts seem to almost parrot the sort of thing that appears on a depressingly regular basis in papers like the Mail and the Express, immigrant this, layabout scrounger that, Muslim the other - and, also, seems to have taken on a distinct flavour of utter contempt towards the working class in general. It was this latter trend that has, twice in the past couple of days, has almost led me to making scathing comments on his blog - but I haven't gone through with them. I also, this morning, seriously considered 'unfollowing' the blog, but didn't do that either. I'm sure it would be a matter of complete indifference to the blog owner whether I continue to follow his blog, or not - he doesn't follow my blog, and I've no evidence whatever that he's even looked at it - and, of course, he's completely within his rights to say whatever he likes, within the bounds of the law, on the blog itself, just as I'm perfectly within my rights to read it or not read it, comment or not comment, as I see fit. What I can't quite understand in myself, though, is the sense of inertia, of not doing anything other than feel a degree of frustration and annoyance.
Even now, as I look back at what I've just written, there's a feeling of vagueness, ambivalence, about this issue, and this post. Now I've written it, I guess I'll publish it, but it just seems vapid, indecisive. I'm not used to feeling this way, and it's a slightly uncomfortable experience, for reasons that I can't quite grasp.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B