i think i can write here first and foremost because the server that holds my domain is down, and therefore, i can't use involution [http://www.hardedged.net/involution].
having people that you don't really know, or not that close to read your innermost thoughts [i guess that's the lamest, most innocuous way to put it] feels safe, and you never have to worry that the people you care about are at all being affected by vents and rants that pass with time.
i'm an incredibly huge fan of personal writings, admittances, confessions. they're like cathedrals, and sunday masses to me, almost a religion. i like seeing human beings beyond the shell of their makeup, and the clothes they wear. however honest, truthful, considerate and thoughtful a person can be, they are still... locked, i suppose, by this overwhelming urge not to play with the delicate fibres that holds their reality together. people censor themselves from the people that should know the truth more than anyone else on the planet. it's ironic. we keep diaries and secrets. we pick and choose the people we want to tell, yet by some force of magic, the people that need to hear what's needed to be heard are the last in line.
i guess being dishonest with yourself is like a defence mechanism. when i say 'dishonest', i mean it in the sense that you aren't delivering the inevitable, you are delaying it. when you spill your guts on the table, for that instant in time, between your final words, and the other person's reply, THAT SILENCE, you are the most vulnerable, and weak person in the world. everyone is terrified of that feeling, and i guess that's why they try to avoid it as much as possible, whenever possible, no matter what the cost.
i don't know who reads the things i put down in plain words, in public. i desperately would like to know, and what they think. i think people use things like livejournal and blogger not to keep secrets, but to let people know in a passive way. it's much easier sending a message in a bottle, not knowing who's going to read it, then to confess something to someone that might result in incredible amounts of pain. i guess livejournals and the like are cries for help, otherwise, we'd keep them as private as possible. people die to know that they aren't alone in the world, and they want to know what people think because what's WRITTEN here is the raw material, the REAL person... and the only way that people can accept themselves is if the people they care about, OTHER PEOPLE, accept them. that is the true tragedy of people social creatures that require love and attention.
but anyway... it's almost six in the morning. [smiles]