The net presence and our daily lives
At what point do we cross the line/s and begin taking other people's journals, not exactly seriously, but certainly as part of our own existence? Maybe all aren't guilty of this; I can only use my incoming mail as a good example, and those who're "outside the box" as my test subject. But at some point, the lurkers/readers feel they're part of our lives because we keep them here. I don't think it's intentional (unless they actively sought us out in the first place, making them suspect to start with); but at some point, the reader experiences a click in his or her head, and what I say here becomes part of their routine, according to the last e-mail I read regarding my journal. That's...just a little bit creepy. Or maybe it's just me. Or maybe they intended to creep me out. So am I to so harshly judge all the anon readers who send mail to "inform" me they're reading? At this juncture, I feel I should not respond at all, and treat incoming mail as if I'm working for a publication, occasionally thanking them for their bidness...heh.
I don't like people getting close to me.
This has always been true. So I keep a lot of my stuff private. Not out of fear of repercussion or "bad" things happening, but because I know (and am reminded) on a daily basis there are people out there whose faces I've never seen, voices never heard, who read just to have something to do while at work or bored. Only when they next-level it from e-mail does it start making me uncomfortable. That's almost as bad as someone getting within my 12-inch personal space. Don't go there unless you're invited. Of course, by leaving this open and befriending others, I'm allowing those to crawl through the space somewhat. They have, however, been invited. So the occasional "hug" doesn't bother me. I actually enjoy instant-messaging most of those on my list. I've chosen my friends carefully, and lost many intentionally and for good reason; and today, I noticed that it's larger than I'm comfortable with. However, upon reviewing the list, I don't want to unfriend any of them.
But you gotta wonder -- with little to no interaction -- if they're really a 'friend' after a certain point; or have they crossed over to another line, rendering the old cliche "familiarity breeds contempt" true? I suspect this is the case with, hm, a handful of mine. Yes, it makes me uncomfortable. No, I'm unaffected nor will I change what I say because of it. This past week especially, I was reminded of why I've always kept journals; they remind me of what has happened, and what will. I learn lessons through what I say that need reenforcing occasionally.
The hatefully unrequited
Those are the ones that make me almost regret keeping an "open" journal. They leap through this hole and literally memorize every keystroke -- or the gist hereof -- to use for future fodder to attack. Do some people just not recognize when they've crossed "a line?" Do they not see the line at all? In all honesty, I hate no one on this planet. I want to believe that there is motivation behind all deeds, both good and bad. But sometimes, especially now, I have to question if evil really does exist without a push over the line, or no line at all.
Recently, I was made aware (again, via e-mail) that someone was reading my journal. This person went on to add me to their buddy list, and tried chatting. I ignored this person LAST YEAR. THIS YEAR, I said something back (and am sure it was hateful, all things considered), and the person responded that they were "honored that I was speaking with them."
This ain't Pulitzer material, hon.
I'm just sayin'. After a certain point, aforementioned got angry, and naturally moved on to that phase, where they were reloading and re-reading, then, mailing 'hate e-mail' to me. I simply deleted it.
Maybe familiarity does breed contempt. Maybe they don't see us as human, but rather cyborgs entering data onto a screen. For what it's worth, I keep my friend's list low for that very reason -- to never dehumanize anyone I read, and to always respect the fact that they are friends, as much as the internet will permit.
Really, we're SO full of ourselves :D
Yes, I digress...and onto today before I think myself into an asylum
Today was extremely depressing (and will be saved for my own entry). For the first hour at the home, things were fine. I have started to believe that if we really look, we can see death coming. Unfortunately, I've had my share of acquaintances, friends and one lover take their own lives or die at very young ages. When I think back on the "lost" and really try to grasp who they were, or what they really believed in -- even where they were going -- I drew a blank for every single one of them. It's almost like their roadmaps of life were planned and stopped short. It was their destiny. In retrospect, and because I was forced to think about this today, none really had any spectacular thing going on, or any clear goal. The younger ones, anyway. And when you're older, you've pretty much put all the important stuff behind you, and memories become more important than where you're going tomorrow. At least, this is what I've observed with older and younger deaths.
I'm only happy when it rainssss
Today's been chilly and wet, and I think I'm going to put up the summer wardrobe for winter, leaving room only for winter stuff. God knows I need more closet space, and although I don't REALLY feel motivated to do it, it beats the helllllllo out of doing any work/work.
This weekend couldn't have been more well-planned, and flew by like a well-oiled machine. Happily, I've found comfort with another. I'm not spending time wondering whether or not we'll make it, or if this is "the one." For perhaps the first time, I'm going with the flow, and not throwing out any sort of vibe which could be misleading. It has been particularly intense, and actually right now is the first chance I've had (awake, anyway) to truly update. It's true that the best things in life are not only free, but typically arrive when we aren't looking. But there's always a flipside to that coin, and all things must level out. No wonder I'm on this rollercoaster all the time. Black and white, wonderful or miserable. Mehh, I've been tested, and no, can't blame it on anything other than me, either enjoying things TOO much, or stuck uncomfortably in the quagmire of life's hell. Cause and effect. No lacking chemicals or any such disorder to blame it on (or give credit to). Just living life.
And since this has turned into a mini-novella I certainly hope that none of my friends (or anon readers :P ) have read this far. Surely, no one does. Maybe sometimes it's best for us to stick with the subheads or flagrantly highlighted words only :) On another note, I've had a couple of really funny IM sessions with said friends this weekend (sporadically, as open windows permitted). The lollerskate was the funniest. :-D And said individual -- who showed me a thread of people who either thought it was hilarious or ridiculous -- actually tried to obtain lol.com, lol.org, lol.biz, loller.com...yeah. LOLOLOL. Mkay...those who've read THIS far hate the thought of it, I'm pretty sure, so I'll end this rambling sheize right now. :P
Situations put to bed. Lockup. Red-lined and sent.