2002 / march / 27
less blogging, more reality
Besides photography, I've spent a lot of time writing letters last week - both electronic
and analog.
And I have quite a few more waiting, slowly composing them
on the backside of my mind and heart
(yes).
Again, a slow process, but well worth it. And at least a few of
the various recipients thought so, too, methinks.
As a side-effect of this intense writing spur
I realised that I haven't been able to give the writing here what I
gave writing one-to-one's, and that that's at the root of the slumbering dislike
of what I created here. I hoped blogging would be an
incentive to keep a diary - that the exhibitionistic side of putting what I'd
previously would've written purely for myself 'out there' would be a motivation.
Which worked for a little while, until I found out that some people, who are
very close to me in real life, were reading this.
Shouldn't have been much of a surprise, given what you get if you google my name.
But it was to me, and I found out the hard way that if I let everything out in
the open, it can hurt people that are dear to me if they don't see it for what
it is: my personal view. On them.
Before I found out, I didn't use real names bot otherwise wrote about everything,
no holds barred. Afterwards, the writing
became less personal. And with that came the slumbering dislike.
So I'll concentrate on one-to-one writing for a while now. And maybe I'll start
another blog in a place that my friends won't stumble over.
Or I'll just put my diary back to the bedside, and leave my rumblings there.
This blog's not going to die. I think it'll get more interesting, even.
And I'll buy a scanner, that's what I'll do.
But for now, on behalf of all of us here on the program, good night.
