This journal has become embarrassing, disgraceful. I deleted half the shit I've posted this month. I had a head-knocking experience last night that, among other things, made me aware that this display of melodrama I've been polluting your journal-reads with has been puerile and ridiculous
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I may not catch all of the nuances of some parts of your writing, when I can't figure something out, I try to reseach the things that I can, and learn about new things and ideas in doing so. In other words, don't change a thing unless *you* want to. You needn't apologise for, or explain, anything.
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If any of it is flummoxing, feel free to just ask what in blazes I am talking about. :-)
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If livejournal serves any useful purpose at all, it might be that. Though certainly after we're out of the clutches of something we generally feel embarassed for having made it public. But somehow that's part of the process, too.
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I'm sure there were some nuggets of wit and insane poetics which had/have value. I only deleted the utter worst of it; most I merely put into private-mode, so I can look at it years from now, and laugh.
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