Why

I've been wanting to start a blog for awhile now. In the past I've used "notes" on facebook a few times to blog. But, I don't really want everyone on facebook to see everything I write. I also don't want to go through the trouble of picking some friends and not others who can "see" it. And, I don't want to be so presumptious as to assume who would even give a shit about reading my bullshit. However, of the people that might be interested, there are some I want to read it. Why? Do I want responses or validation? No, not really. In the past I have written "blogs" that only I can see. Why isn't that enough if the writing is just to get it out, to express it? I don't know, there is a greater sense of purging if I know there is an audience, that someone else just saw it. In fact, in some ways I don't really want a lot of response. I don't want sympathy or problem solvers. That's not what it is about. It's just knowing that someone else out there knows. That maybe they do relate or it validates something they feel and they can privately, I don't know, feel that gift without us having to actually communicate about it.

I guess I also want *some* people to know who I am. I mean, the people I would feel comfortable reading this, for the most part, are people who do know who I am. But I guess I just want them to have greater, more private insight in a way that doesn't feel uncomfortable because we don't actually have to talk about it.

Anyway, I still haven't figured out how I'm going to let the people that I would actually be ok with reading this know about. My fear is looking self-absorbed. I'm a little insecure in that part of me thinks that no one really gives a shit to hear my internal musings and to even put the blog out there might seem like I expect these people to focus on me when everyone has their own lives and their own shit to focus on. But I do know that I have enjoyed reading other people's blogs. I have one, I guess acquaintance is the more fitting word, who writes a blog that I love to read. She is so honest and raw and makes herself vulnerable by really saying what she feels. And I feel I've been given the gift from her that I expressed wanting to give others above. So, I don't know. Maybe people are curious.

So, that's it for now. I don't know why I have become so worried or embarrassed about sentimentality, emotions, and vulnerability in my old age. I used to wear my heart on my sleeve and I didn't give a shit about people who would put me down for it. I think it may be that growing up curse. We lose truth. We lose imaginiation. We stop playing. We squelch pure, raw emotion. I guess that is why I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP! And I guess that is why I enjoy haning out with kids and teens so much more than most adults.

Oh yeah, I said that was it, so I guess I should stop writing.