Saturday, August 9, 2008

I'm wondering just how long I should keep writing in this world of all alone. 
Maybe I should let somebody know I'm here.
Nah. Then I wouldn't be able to say whatever I wanted! 
Wait. I don't say whatever I want anyway. Fear of being found I suppose. 

What would I say if I could say whatever I wanted? 

I got away from blogging for a reason. I'm not quite sure what that was but I have a feeling it had something to do with the ridiculousness of talking about nothing.
Which is what I'm doing right now.

Perhaps this blog should end as quickly as it started. I should cut it off, now. 
But then...

I think I started again because I liked the thought of venting and venting to someone who would listen. Though I must admit I have yet to vent.
In a way I don't want anyone to know why I'd like to vent. 
I know that the annoyances and trials in life are for a season and a purpose. There is no reason to act like it's a disaster, because it's not. Everything is orchestrated so perfectly and purposefully. 
But even then, I am not perfect (we all know) and I very often feel like displaying my uncertainty, hate, discontentment, pride and unenviable sorrow. 

I believe I am too open. I would like to give details. I would like to convey exactly what has happened and what I feel to those who care to listen. I want you to know what I think. I find though that events and emotions involve others and their lives. I realize that I am not free to speak of circumstance that involves others and so I feel somewhat restricted. I feel as if I cannot share what bothers me.
That, I believe, must be my excuse. And so I am always secretive, not by my own will but by the will of others. 

I suppose I will write for now. 

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