There are some events that happen that I really just want to share. I want to put them out there, just perhaps to get them off my chest. Not all the time something bad, sometimes just an observation based on experience, or a situation that has come to light only in the small sphere for my interactions.
I feeling or contrivance of them, perhaps bought on my the hormonal fluctuations of femalehood or whatever. What ever it is, I just want to share it.
And I sit to type it, maybe even bang out a few hundred words and find myself deleting it all. Not because of the quality of writing, or the richness of the narrative, but simply because I know that:
1. People read your personals and cast aspersions on your life. They do, be it Facebook statuses, or tweets, or anything really. You share and immediately open yourself up to all the judgement and ugliness that apparently was there all along just waiting to come out. and
2. Aspersions take on a life of their own. I must say I am flattered when it does happen. To find out about my own infamy. Generally among strangers who have no clue about me, except the shoo shoo of hushed tones and blanks filled in with speculation. But these can be damaging, and not having very good control of my tiny rage monster, not a good idea to encourage especially in a tiny society like mine. I will admit again though, to be gossiped about, is one hell of an ego boost.
it all usually ends up being reduced to a sigh. Or a few sighs, depending on the magnitude of the riot it sets off with the characters in my brain space. Does that make me sound crazy? The fact that there are people talking to me, in voices and characters I do not claim as my own? …..Sigh….
See I just did it. There it is. Right there, the sigh.
……sigh…..lol……I’m gone folks…. even thought the sigh only serves as a monosyllabic screen for all those things, it still makes me feel better sharing my sighs with cyber space.