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i've been taking a bit of a break from writing on here recently.

it has a lot to do with the inherent confusion of public/private space that happens with something like this...that is - i write here. someone reads it, maybe. what happens if that someone is in fact mentioned [no matter how vaguely] in one of my posts, & i say something not so nice, flattering, or even just mildly critical? or even something which i think is a compliment but isn't? or they're a co-worker & just shouldn't know that about my life. or a former lover who shouldn't know about the other things. or a relative, say a cousin or aunt or something.

then again, it is so cathartic & most of the time no one reads it. so it's like a diary, with a public audience who doesn't know me. so in reality i should feel comfortable spilling my guts about all my insecurities, awkwardnesses & weird interactions, b/c the actual probability of someone i know reading this shit is fairly low.

but what if?

i suppose i could just not tell the people who shouldn't know about this about it. but if i do that, then they won't know at all. & every once in a while i write something vaguely interesting, right?

so instead of focusing on my nebulous & confused personal rants & raves, i've instead been forced by this "outlet" to write somewhat less personal, yet personal, pieces.

i can say things about my "friends" & what we do, but i don't want to mention names or locations out of paranoia. i can say things about who i work with & how i function in that environment, but not really rail or critique any of it [or me] for fear of a co-worker [or future employer] reading it.

i can say things about how i feel. but god forbid i use this as some sort of freudian "writing cure." that'd be dreadful. & probably not all that much fun to read.

& so i find myself thinking of other more vague [& somehow more specific] ways to express how & why i'm feeling the way i am. & in a way it means i'm expressing anger & frustration about & at things that either aren't really the cause or the effect of that anger/frustration/sadness/lonliness/&C.

hmmmm. it's a forced barrier between myself & the kind of expression i originally thought it would be. how fascinating...at least for me. which is of course the other issue of this kind of thing. do you pay attention to the mythical "reader," to their desires as an audience, or just ignore the whole concept?

which of course is the issue. is this for me, or you?

& it can hypothetically be for both of us. but only in a weird voyeuristic way, which isn't really voyeuristic at all because i know you're out there, or at least are supposed to be, & you know that i know. so that eliminates any bad faith weirdness which could result from this hypothetical private/public relationship whereby i write things, you read them, & that's pretty much it.

but it still makes me feel a little funny inside to really talk about myself here. & i think it's better that way...for now.


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