Really?
You know, I called this thing "Heart on My Sleeve" way back when for a reason. See, I've never been one to keep secrets about how I felt, and so it didn't feel like any great leap to leave my thoughts right there on the screen for people to read. Then, I noticed that people I didn't necessarily WANT reading these things were, well, reading them, which wasn't good, as very often I was writing ABOUT them. It wasn't even necessarily bad things, nor was I talking behind their backs or anything volatile, but I was venting thoughts that might have concerned them, such as, say, thoughts about a certain girl or being angry that a friend said or did something. Even if I didn't use names or actions, the fact that they played some small, if anonymous, role in my musings here could lead to more trouble, so I tried to censor myself even more.
And so now, is this place truly where I wear my "heart on my sleeve," or has it just become my emo dumping ground? Has this blog run its course, or did it a long, long time ago? I suppose that I write things here because I want people to know about them; if I'm unhappy, I suppose that I'm the kind to announce my unhappiness so that I can recieve advice or, at times, solace. I'm the type who hates pity, but likes information.
But there is an invisible audience here, and so I really have no choice but to monitor myself. I may well begin limiting many of my entries, if only to limit my audience to those who I know...well, don't care as much. So, maybe I'll write for myself and a few, but not really for everyone.
From now on, if you want to know how I am, or what I'm thinking about...well, ask. That's a pretty clear way of finding out.
And so now, is this place truly where I wear my "heart on my sleeve," or has it just become my emo dumping ground? Has this blog run its course, or did it a long, long time ago? I suppose that I write things here because I want people to know about them; if I'm unhappy, I suppose that I'm the kind to announce my unhappiness so that I can recieve advice or, at times, solace. I'm the type who hates pity, but likes information.
But there is an invisible audience here, and so I really have no choice but to monitor myself. I may well begin limiting many of my entries, if only to limit my audience to those who I know...well, don't care as much. So, maybe I'll write for myself and a few, but not really for everyone.
From now on, if you want to know how I am, or what I'm thinking about...well, ask. That's a pretty clear way of finding out.