Monday, April 04, 2005

Facing Facts

When I re-created this weblog after killing my old online journal, I swore that I would never ever edit myself here. I would talk about what I wanted, when I wanted, and everyone else be damned. Within limits.

Those limits have come smack up in my face. Ya know why? I KNOW some of you people who read this. And I'm faced with the constant demonic voice that haunts so many of our neurotic dreams.

"If you REALLY knew me, you wouldn't like me."

Is that, excuse me, fucked up, or what?

I've oft commented to other webloggers that there is no need to have separate weblogs for separate things. Now, at long last, I grok. I get it. It isn't about the topic. It's about the audience!

Now, don't get me wrong. I like most of you (those I don't like will just have to guess who they are, because I'm a nice person and won't say bad things about people unless they get in my face about it.) I'm pleased and proud and perfectly happy to have you stopping in here and paying attention to me. It's great, it's wonderful. But I've built this image of who you are in my head, and...well...There are just some things this image in my head does not want to hear me discuss. And if I told you what those things were you would not want to hear them, so I'm not even going to MENTION them.

So I find myself at a crossroads. Since I can talk about ALMOST anything here -- including gory physical details and what I had for lunch -- I'm talking about my dilemma. But I'm dancing around the actual subject. Aren't I enigmatic? Or I dropped my duckie in the tub, one of the two.

I kinda already did this when I created my writing journal, because I figured a lot of people wouldn't care to read my writing prompts and assorted story ideas here, and because I had a set of links and graphics and la-de-dah I wanted to use. I linked it here, and I'm not hiding it, because it's a choice thing. I don't mind if people know about that part of me. And it isn't like I've developed some kinky new illegal hobby. I'm still about as white-bread Middle America as they come. I'm not likely to have run-ins with law enforcement, government officials, Jerry Springer or Oprah. I'm awfully ordinary -- well, I can write in complete sentences with both a subject and a predicate, and I do know how to punctuate. This puts me somewhat above being COMPLETELY ordinary. But, still...

It just strikes me as odd that I could fall to the same logic as so many, when I know it's there and I know what causes it. This being only human shit is really hard.

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