What do we really know about anyone?
I've been trying to sort through what happened to my journal friends kitters and cheapdialogue. It is shocking to me that anyone would mess with their lives by revealing sensitive information
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Yeah, we had a bad thing happen. It's ending, I hope.
And despite the fact that Alex has left LiveJournal, you know what? It's not gonna stop me from writing about my life.
I need it. I don't know why. Journaling to myself isn't satisfying enough. I never write in a paper journal more than a page or two before abandoning it. I have a bizarre compulsion to tell the ever unfolding story of my life. And to tell stories, you need an audience.
I thought it was ego. I used to be ashamed when journaling became too painful to continue, yet I'd creep back to it. Ego is a huge ingredient, to be sure, but now I think it's deeper than that. It's the same reason artists paint and novelists er, novel. You have to let it out, lest you fade away and become irrelevant.
The few days I couldn't write - not because I chose not to, but because I found myself paralyzed from it - were terrifying. I haven't been that emotionally unstable for years. Nothing mattered, without my voice. I couldn't stop thinking about sleeping under ponds, slipping away into the murk. I was disappearing.
I didn't, though. I have a rich and full life in addition to my LiveJournal, and my family and friends carried me through. So now I'm able to write. It balances that way. I can't function in one capacity without the other. And I won't be intimidated out of my own life, I have resolved at least that much.
Huh. Sorry to go on like that. I'm gonna paste that into my own journal. I think something snapped for me in there, but I don't quite know what.
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If we were in the same place, we'd be chatting over coffee -- so you wouldn't notice how much you needed to say. ^_^
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