I started my blog as a place to get my thoughts and feelings out of my head and onto paper, virtual though it may be. Writing is cathartic. It’s a wonderful outlet. Except when it isn’t. The catch 22 with having a public blog is that sometimes you have to censor yourself, or shut yourself up completely because of people that read your blog. I’m not talking about the few people I don’t know personally who read my blog. Rather, the people in my daily life that read it.
I’ve got so many thoughts rambling around that I really want to get out. Need to get out. Normally, this is where I would come to let them out. This time, however, I can’t do that. It’s one thing to reveal my personal issues to the world. I make a conscious decision on what I allow the world to see. I have to be respectful, however, of the people in my life and what they might or might not want revealed about them on my blog. When those two issues collide, it leaves me in a quandary. I want to write, but I don’t want to violate any trust in those I love.
I want to scream and shout and let my fingers fly. But I can’t. So this is me writing about not writing.