I got a surprising backlash against my first post. Some friends took it personally, even though the post was not connected to them and did not talk about them at all, except as the jesting and friendly voice on the other end of the line.
I was told the blog was shoddy material. I actually agree. I was trying to write something and rehashed something from an old post that I wrote. For anyone who has looked at my computer, I have this really heavy folder called 'Writing' where I store unpublished blog posts, movie reviews, short stories, tidbits of pretty writing, etc. Once in six months I browse through this folder, like something I wrote several years ago and decide to put it online. The '11 things I want to tell people' are a rehashed version of something I wrote a long time ago.
My husband also thinks I should be doing more with the blog and not just venting. I do agree. But sometimes I do need to vent, especially because there are certain things you cannot tell friends or family. Sometimes no one has the time or patience to hear you out and I sort of see my blogs as a nameless entity to whom I can unburden myself. But the contradiction is, why do I then want people to read it? I would say it is simply vanity. I write something, I want people to read it and comment on its brilliance.
The problem with the old post is that it is NOT brilliant. In fact it's silly, petulant, foot-stomping writing. But honestly, I did enjoy writing it. Got to sharpen my claws a little bit. And I kept most of my fur. Sometimes writing anything, even just nonsense and gibberish, is so therapeutic, I would do it without taking into account the consequences of what I am writing. But I do understand that once you get on a public forum, there is a certain level of responsibility that comes with circulating material. People do form opinions based on words arranged in particular sequences, they do judge you by what you are saying. They choose to associate or dissociate with you based on what you say and how you say it. Nothing wrong with that.
I am prepared to face the consequences of what I write. But can writing exist simply for the sake of writing itself, or can I employ this at the service of something bigger. Ideally, I would like to do that, but being human, I do get caught up in the nitty-gritty of corporeal living - making tea, doing the laundry, cooking, cleaning, socializing, etc etc. Sometimes the writing that comes forth is frustrated with this living and its pointlessness and even more angered at being caught in this cycle and having no escape. The writing leads the charge against those who enjoy this life, and CANNOT SEE the big picture, cannot experience their own slavery as anything more than a ubiquitous culture of consumption. I experience my slavery every single day, but I also see how by just living the way I do I enslave others - the Chinese sweatshop workers, the dead birds I eat on beds of rice, the people who have to care for me and deal with me - the unstable, indifferent, nihilistic chick.
Some individuals get caught up in this bee-swarm of alphabets, words, sentences and grammar. And they get angry, or hurt or feel insulted. But for the most part they also live their lives making others angry, hurting other people and insulting them too. I have been angered, hurt and insulted as well by several people many times over. Perhaps this is how the world is supposed to weave itself. As a series of lash-backs against backlashes. This is how we proceed - thesis! Anti-thesis! Synthesis!
The pen is not only mightier, but sharper, more precise and infinitely more damaging than the sword. So say we all!
This blog will get better! That is a promise!
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