It has been brought to my attention that my blog might be perhaps too transparent a view into the inner sanctum of my mind. One friend described it as "depressing". Someone mentioned it was "raw".
I've never been any good at mystery.
But the constructive criticisms were not intimating that I'm losing it or anything. Rather, that I'm much more sane and together than the posts seem to convey (and yes, I'm defending myself here for some reason). My writings (according to one person) appear to communicate that I'm reaching out for someone to save me or something. Perhaps I am reaching out, in a way, but not for a savior.
I don't know what I'm writing this thing for, really. It's as if I'm leaving my diary open on my coffee table. I've wondered since my very first post what my purpose is in putting this stuff online. Do I want people to read it? Which people exactly? And why? Is this catharsis? Or is this an unhealthy exercise altogether?
Any opinions, thoughts, commentary, or musings would be much appreciated.
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