Friday, October 17, 2003
*sigh*
Sometimes, when go back and read over what I've written here - the next day, for example - I think to myself, "Maybe I shouldn't post entries when I'm so tired/emotional/crazy." Then I remember that I'm always crazy, so if I waited for that condition to pass, I'd never write.
I also remember that this 'blog is a record of my thoughts and feelings at this time in my life. Sure, it's a public record, where anyone in the world can stop by and read what insanity I'm thinking. I'm just egotistical enough to think that my words are of interest to someone. Otherwise I'd just jot it all down in a paper or computer diary, never to see the light of day.
And I do that with some of my thoughts and feelings, things I want to keep strictly private. Mainly because they tend to involve other people, where I'd have to write more about their lives and what parts of those lives are affecting me. Since they never asked to have their life stories flung about in a public forum, I keep those aspects personal.
Still, it's hard to balance what to write and what not to write when other people are thrown into the mix. Since people are pretty much a planetary epidemic, there's no getting away from that. So I try to write enough about them so that readers, whoever they may be, get a flavor of the person I'm writing about without being able to track down their address and phone number.
I talk about CuteNerdBoy a lot in this 'blog because, for good or ill (I prefer to think good), he's become an big part of my life. That stems from my tendency to care about people a bit more rapidly then I perhaps should. I've been hurt, been burned enough that I can be wary about letting people inside the walls I've built around myself. But once I do decide to let them in, I don't just fling open the door and issue an invite. I lay open my heart almost instantly. Maybe it's not the best thing to do, but I just don't know of any other way to be.
So CuteNerdBoy sits in a little spot in my heart and I can't help but to write about him. And there's so much more I would like to write, his history and my history and our history that might explain some of my jumpiness. But it wouldn't be fair to him. Or me. Or whatever it is that is going on between us, whether it stays a friendship or becomes something else.
Much as it pains me to say, some things will have to remain private.
I also remember that this 'blog is a record of my thoughts and feelings at this time in my life. Sure, it's a public record, where anyone in the world can stop by and read what insanity I'm thinking. I'm just egotistical enough to think that my words are of interest to someone. Otherwise I'd just jot it all down in a paper or computer diary, never to see the light of day.
And I do that with some of my thoughts and feelings, things I want to keep strictly private. Mainly because they tend to involve other people, where I'd have to write more about their lives and what parts of those lives are affecting me. Since they never asked to have their life stories flung about in a public forum, I keep those aspects personal.
Still, it's hard to balance what to write and what not to write when other people are thrown into the mix. Since people are pretty much a planetary epidemic, there's no getting away from that. So I try to write enough about them so that readers, whoever they may be, get a flavor of the person I'm writing about without being able to track down their address and phone number.
I talk about CuteNerdBoy a lot in this 'blog because, for good or ill (I prefer to think good), he's become an big part of my life. That stems from my tendency to care about people a bit more rapidly then I perhaps should. I've been hurt, been burned enough that I can be wary about letting people inside the walls I've built around myself. But once I do decide to let them in, I don't just fling open the door and issue an invite. I lay open my heart almost instantly. Maybe it's not the best thing to do, but I just don't know of any other way to be.
So CuteNerdBoy sits in a little spot in my heart and I can't help but to write about him. And there's so much more I would like to write, his history and my history and our history that might explain some of my jumpiness. But it wouldn't be fair to him. Or me. Or whatever it is that is going on between us, whether it stays a friendship or becomes something else.
Much as it pains me to say, some things will have to remain private.
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