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the evolution of vanity writing

A long time ago I had a blog and it was awful. Please don’t try and find it. I would erase it if I could remember the password.

And then later I had a livejournal. A lot was written there, some of which makes me cringe and some of which is pretty decent. At first it was all public, all out there. I wrote whatever I wanted and didn’t think of the repercussions. But I hurt a good friend unintentionally and decided that only I was fair game - I could write anything I wanted as long as it was critical of no one but myself. I never wanted anyone who might stumble across those words to be hurt. That became less of a decency mission statement and more like emotional Jackass-ery. Watch me drag my ego through crushed glass over and over again, GG Allin style. What was once public became password protected and then almost entirely private. I’ve alway found it easier to write about heartbreak, sadness, grief and inadequacy even if that may not accurately reflect the reality of my life, and generally it doesn’t. It reflects the detritus that lingers on the top of my brain late at night, things probably better unsaid.

I’m not sure what I want to do with this space here, what my voice is anymore, but I want it to be a brighter, happier one. I’m guessing it may be just photos for awhile. The real stuff might stay private. But I’m ready to start writing again. So…hello.