IGME Files

      Initially, when I started this blog, I made myself clear that I was going to express myself, through writing, the experiences I went through or any emotion or thoughts I have, even my included here dreams I have.  I have filtered them out – for an audience.  Right now, I have 606 people on my list, friends and strangers alike.  Who’s reading?  I don’t want to deny, but hell, I care, not for the number of those reading or the number of comments.  I care for the composition of those reading.  It came to a point that a dilemma has cropped up, whether I want to let everyone know without them passing judgments on me and my being. 

      In blogging, you could be your own self, but what happens when you feel you have crossed the line between writing to express and writing to impress.  When you have put all the embelishments there is, but still, something’s missing.  Even when you are compelled to write, you will have already filtered out in your mind other things that you think would not be accepted.  Conversely, it’s also hard to put those details of your life without thinking of shocking your loved ones, or incriminating friends or yourself, putting off strangers, or worse, losing your job.  When you decide to let it out, is too much information enough to liberate oneself?  When you write, for whom do you validate? 

     There are few of my blogs here that after posting them, I really felt exposed that I wished I had not posted them.  And I want to tell you this too, that those lazy times (meaning the times I had not written and decided to keep them for myself) were happy times and great insights I’ve had. 

     My main argument in blogging is that it has so democratized how you view your world (and the world to you) that it has left out intimate moments with people.  A ‘friend’ reads your blogs and he/she may not even keep in touch for a month, a year; and still can know about what you do.  Your good friend becomes your anonymous-reader/virtual-friend.  I don’t want to have relationships like that. 

     I have thought of deleting at least a hundred profiles that have infiltrated my account who I have no connection at all, but that would mean going through their names and trying to have a face-recall.  And before I know it, that would also require questioning the remaining hundreds if they deserve a glimpse of my life, and I have no time thinking about that either. 

    Frienster blog has served its purpose and I have learned I can’t separate myself/edit myself out from my writing.  I am moving on to another blog site that has a private and public viewing feature.  Or maybe I’d just create an anonymous account for everyone to read.    I just know I love writing, but it will never love me back.