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Only the Lonely....
Jun. 29th, 2006 06:00 pmAt loose ends at the moment. Should make dinner, not overly hungry and don't want to deal with job search or read or even work on my novel - which I'd hoped to do today while on jury duty but did not get the chance to. My poor characters have sat at the same table in Bryant Park, in stasis, for well over two weeks now. They are no doubt wondering if I will ever get back to them. I know the plot of my novel, I just can't hear the words for it, right now. The noise of other things has gotten in the way.
While scanning flist/correspondence, noticed that one of the people, who I read a lot, partly because they wrote three to four entries a day and long entries at that - so I could not miss them, has deleted their journal. The entries, unlike most entries on lj, were often about world events, book reviews, movies, rants on writing, and television shows - occassionally they'd write about themselves or what they did or how they were feeling, but usually it was a long somewhat sarcastic but well written/compelling piece on something else. So, it threw me a little, when I realized it. Even though they'd been threatening off and on for a few weeks about doing just that.
I only bring this up, because, well, I've considered doing the same thing more than once the last couple of months. Deleting the journal. Getting rid of it. In a fit of pique, or just because I feel an odd embarrassment writing personal messages on the internet to folks that if I'm honest with myself, I barely know outside of such postings. I've met approximately 50% of the people on the flist in person, of those, only two have I seen in person and spoken with, face to face, individually, and had an intimate conversation with, more than a handful of times. So it feels odd to throw things out there - personal things, without having any clue how people are relating to them, because you do not really know these people to begin with. Group functions - and there have been a few - don't work well for me. I find myself overwhelmed by them. And not connecting to the people. It feels superficial somehow. Like those old fashioned cocktail parties where everyone tells the same joke over and over and over until you've stopped listening and you just murmer with a pasted smile into your drink. So why bother? I think. Why keep throwing words up on a screen and exposing myself in this way to a bunch of strangers? So, I'll delete a post here, or tell myself that I'll stop writing in it, that I'll be quiet for six months, then I will delete the whole thing in one fell swoop.
Yet.
I change my mind.
( ramble on blogging, lonliness, and friendship. )
[I guess I'll keep this public for now...]
While scanning flist/correspondence, noticed that one of the people, who I read a lot, partly because they wrote three to four entries a day and long entries at that - so I could not miss them, has deleted their journal. The entries, unlike most entries on lj, were often about world events, book reviews, movies, rants on writing, and television shows - occassionally they'd write about themselves or what they did or how they were feeling, but usually it was a long somewhat sarcastic but well written/compelling piece on something else. So, it threw me a little, when I realized it. Even though they'd been threatening off and on for a few weeks about doing just that.
I only bring this up, because, well, I've considered doing the same thing more than once the last couple of months. Deleting the journal. Getting rid of it. In a fit of pique, or just because I feel an odd embarrassment writing personal messages on the internet to folks that if I'm honest with myself, I barely know outside of such postings. I've met approximately 50% of the people on the flist in person, of those, only two have I seen in person and spoken with, face to face, individually, and had an intimate conversation with, more than a handful of times. So it feels odd to throw things out there - personal things, without having any clue how people are relating to them, because you do not really know these people to begin with. Group functions - and there have been a few - don't work well for me. I find myself overwhelmed by them. And not connecting to the people. It feels superficial somehow. Like those old fashioned cocktail parties where everyone tells the same joke over and over and over until you've stopped listening and you just murmer with a pasted smile into your drink. So why bother? I think. Why keep throwing words up on a screen and exposing myself in this way to a bunch of strangers? So, I'll delete a post here, or tell myself that I'll stop writing in it, that I'll be quiet for six months, then I will delete the whole thing in one fell swoop.
Yet.
I change my mind.
( ramble on blogging, lonliness, and friendship. )
[I guess I'll keep this public for now...]
