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music |
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Butterflies and Hurricanes - Absolution |
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First I post, someone told me not too. Then you comment, OMG, did you read that, then I remove the post, too many people know, so I then I start locking the posts, my posts are no longer free, I can no longer speak openly about my life, so I hide my thoughts in layers of blogs, and friends lists, you are not on the guest list, comments filter into your life, they are sorted and blocked, can you no longer even be honest with yourself? A journal it is no longer, a social network, a club, with the few gaining access to how you might really feel, but what if the guest list is too big, how many people did you let in? Push them out, create a new blog, one that no one knows, why write if no one reads, let someone in, cycle continues, friends tell freinds, add friends, posts become public, ashamed of my real thoughts, closing the circle, access denied, comments come again, I move back to the old blog and start typing assuming that no one is watching, I leap and lock, write and post, remove and add, the dance is detailed, it is eager, it is self serving, the social implications are tremendous, many pick the barrel of a gun, rather than a MySpace suicide, the degredation of inner-thought. Undone by the simple act of typing and access to information.
Some live and die by the keyboard alone.
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contemplative
confused