Wednesday, June 1, 2011


Someone recently asked me what my blog is about. (She has never read a blog, was intrigued by the idea of blogging, and wanted to talk to me about mine.) I told her that it's filled with whatever strikes my fancy. Sometimes it's very personal. Sometimes it's not.

"I process things through writing," I said. "So my blog is where I do some of my better thinking."

She looked dissatisfied with the answer, but that didn't make it any less true. Writing is where my best thinking happens, where I sort things out and make sense of them. My thoughts become clear to me when I can see them and take them back in through reading. I don't pretend to understand how that works, or why it works, or why the world in general seems so much better when filtered through the printed word, but that's how my brain functions.

I've come to rely on this space for helping me to puzzle through where I'm at and where I'm going.

Therefore, it bothers me immensely that I have some things going on that I can't write about here. Despite the fact that I do frequently (and with great joy) excercise my right to live my life on the Internet with very little privacy and few to no boundaries, I have run up against one that is a bit of a deal breaker. There are places you can't (or perhaps just should not) go on a blog (or on Facebook for that matter) because the ramifications of doing so can stretch well beyond my normal realm of "Your blog entry really pissed me off" and into the realm of "Congratulations! You just lost your Job!" or "Hi, now I'm suing you!"

Unfortunately, the thing I can't write about it sort of consuming me at the moment. As a result, you get to read a kind of shitty blog post written by someone who is frustrated and not very happy. I know there's a light at the end of every tunnel, but I feel like I've been walking for a long time in the dark, listening to my own footsteps, with no clearer view of where the exit might actually be. It's infuriating. I am angry and hurt.

But oddly, I am also hopeful. Because things pass. This moment of unhappiness? It will pass. These feelings of frustration? They will also pass.

And when they do? I will write about them.

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