Tuesday, January 24, 2012


When this blog first started, the whole intent was that it was going to be totally anonymous. Little by little I had a quip or a moment that I didn't want to type again. I sent a link.

And then I posted a link. And then it made it to my facebook profile and then my twitter homepage. And then I added a profile picture: A face to the nameless name. And then photos. My blog is no longer anonymous; it is a problem and it's not.

On the one hand, I'm very open and I don't have a problem sharing what's happening to me. Or with me. Or what's going on in my head. I over-think a lot and have always had a fond love or writing - I find it to be very cathartic: Organized thoughts in a mind of chaos. Only I find often that what I think in my head, comes out far different in type (or words. Or even actions.). On the other, what one might infer wasn't actually what I was expressing. And for whatever reason, no one ever really wants to admit they read my blog - or the ones that do, make me realize that what I'm writing is often misunderstood. This doesn't surprise me much - as I often find myself misunderstood - but it's annoying and maybe even concerning.

This was suppose to be a fun place. And a therapeutic place. And I think the link fell into the wrong hands at times and made people worry that shouldn't worry. And people who think they know me, assume something about me they shouldn't. And others over-analyze the rapid thoughts of a free thinker, who sometimes just writes what she feels - whether it stands in truth for just a moment as a fleeting nymph, or stands the test of time as a solid mass of thought; unbreakable. When the truth is, much like how I paint, the meaning is often deeply immersed and rarely understood - unless I explain it.

So I turn to me and wonder if I'm shooting myself in my own foot by developing these thoughts into words. And sometimes just poetic tongue. Or if I, myself, am simply over-thinking the whole scenario into something more than it is. Do I keep this going or just revert back to the days of 14 when I had a diary that my mom could break into easier than I could remember my own combination code?

I'm not sure. But I guess everything is a little confusing at the moment. Saturn in Libra is officially getting old. ::shrugs:: I guess we'll just see. In the meantime, folks - I warn you I may go private (and you're all welcome) temporarily or maybe people shouldn't think the way they analyze a person is always what's really going through their mind. Because, chances are, you're we're all wrong.