Recently, I've found a few people that are worried about me based on my old blog posts, and it wouldn't surprise me to find a few more. While I understand why those posts concern people, it makes me really frustrated that people let themselves get worried about the past.
One of the reasons I kept this blog secret for so long was just that: I knew people would be worried. Trust me, I worried about myself, too; but that's why I wrote--that's why I still write. I use this blog and my writing to work out the kinks in my life, mind, and heart. Because of that purpose, what I wrote a month ago is very likely irrelevant now in its original context, and what I write now may be irrelevant in a month's time.
Some of my writing has a creative bent to it, which means that it may very well be based on something from my life, but is now stretched, pulled, and magnified to make it something I can write about it a way that's meaningful. Thing's aren't always what they seem.
Yes, maybe a diary would better suit my purposes, but a diary would also feel constricting, because no one can see it, no one can respond to it, no one can relate to it. I keep a diary in conjunction with this blog, so I know. Not to mention, I don't write everything here. You're not getting anywhere close to a whole picture with these writings. I refuse to delete old posts just because they no longer reflect my current status; those posts still reflect the little journeys that have brought me here and make the picture you do get a little clearer.
Take what I write seriously, in that I write earnestly about things that really bother me; but don't take my writing so seriously that you leave me no room to move or grow. I can't keep my mind from whirring and if I don't let some of those thoughts out, there will be even more reason to worry about me, trust me.
No comments:
Post a Comment