Personal Censorship
I don't know why I started this, nor does it matter. I only wonder why I told people and advertised about it. I guess I wanted readership and to know that some people somewhere were paying attention to it.
And yet there are times that I wish this was anonymous. That no one knew this was my blog and that I was typing these stories. For if I could be anonymous I could type without abandon. I could type what I wanted and not worry about the consequences. I could say things I wanted, I could say things about other people without any repercussions. If someone ruined my day, if only for an hour, I could say whatever I wanted, I could lay into them as hard as the keyboard would allow me without fear of them finding out that I wrote it. It would allow me to get things off my chest without actually having to say it to them. For I feel much better whenever I vent, even if the person I am venting about has no idea I am mad at them. And usually it works. Claire has heard a few of my rants and vents, and that I appreciate her being there. However, I can't do that now. I can't just walk down the hall or across campus anymore and vent my little heart out with all the arm and hand motions that accompany it. I can't do it, it's not practical. I don't have anyone to vent to, I have only this. And yet I can't say it here. With Claire I could say whatever I want without fear for I knew it would never leave her ears. And yet this, with my name attached, means I can't say what I really want to make everything all better because then everyone that reads this would know, including the person (or persons) I especially do not want to know. And that would be the reason behind me hiding all the original Operation Intrigued posts. The person those posts were about could, and probably would have, read them had I kept them up. And I did not want that, it would have been a little embarresing. So into hiding they went, never to be seen again. And now, insead of writing and hiding it, I never write it. The words never see the light of day.
And that is the dilemma. How am I to say what I want to say if I can't say it?
And yet there are times that I wish this was anonymous. That no one knew this was my blog and that I was typing these stories. For if I could be anonymous I could type without abandon. I could type what I wanted and not worry about the consequences. I could say things I wanted, I could say things about other people without any repercussions. If someone ruined my day, if only for an hour, I could say whatever I wanted, I could lay into them as hard as the keyboard would allow me without fear of them finding out that I wrote it. It would allow me to get things off my chest without actually having to say it to them. For I feel much better whenever I vent, even if the person I am venting about has no idea I am mad at them. And usually it works. Claire has heard a few of my rants and vents, and that I appreciate her being there. However, I can't do that now. I can't just walk down the hall or across campus anymore and vent my little heart out with all the arm and hand motions that accompany it. I can't do it, it's not practical. I don't have anyone to vent to, I have only this. And yet I can't say it here. With Claire I could say whatever I want without fear for I knew it would never leave her ears. And yet this, with my name attached, means I can't say what I really want to make everything all better because then everyone that reads this would know, including the person (or persons) I especially do not want to know. And that would be the reason behind me hiding all the original Operation Intrigued posts. The person those posts were about could, and probably would have, read them had I kept them up. And I did not want that, it would have been a little embarresing. So into hiding they went, never to be seen again. And now, insead of writing and hiding it, I never write it. The words never see the light of day.
And that is the dilemma. How am I to say what I want to say if I can't say it?
posted by Timchula at 16:12
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