My words are war
If I can make this cohesive, great. I'll decline to talk about music or the band, but rather, a topic I find somewhat interesting.
People blog for various reasons and I have no qualms with that. I think if you write and it enriches your life and subsequently someone else's, then please continue and never lose it. The written word is a beautiful thing; it's always been the one thing that remains sacred to me. It's pure--and when it comes out of me, it's about the most spiritual thing I can do. I blog because I find it refreshing and it gives me a chance to filter my thoughts and to translate what's in my mind to the written word--not compromising or lessening what I'm thinking--either bemused or vitriolic. I don't believe in lying when I write. It's like going to the gym--I work out with my mind and fingers here; I exercise my God-given gift/ability.
Yet somehow, sometimes what I write seems to upset people. I'm not certain why. I don't feel a sense of regret; I don't apologize and the simplest thing I can say is, like a television program that you find offensive, don't tune in. Don't read it and you won't be offended. I'm not here to pretend.
So I will try to state the facts: about that whole e-mail at my birthday--why do so many people care about someone they never met (me) or how I view my ex-girlfriend or her gesture? I don't fake feeling things that are not; I don't act like I care about or live in the past. And I certainly don't feel an affection for a person (persons) that I never really felt an affection for to begin with. The bottom line here is that I'm not a sentimentalist. If that's cold, then that's your perception; I don't need to pretend being glad to hear from someone that I hadn't given a thought to in as many years as we'd been incommunicado. I could sit here and expound my thoughts as to why she decided to e-mail me, but it comes down to one thing: I really don't know why; I don't need to know why and I don't care why. So if you were angered by what I said before, you really need to concentrate on your own existence and don't worry about how I conduct myself.
This all is so easily avoidable if you just read these blogs as entertainment and not containing veiled references to anyone in particular. I've read blogs by writers my age and younger and I've seen some really cruel attacks and I can't fathom why so many people give a shit. For younger people, while they may not have the finesse of age, I hope they maintain a sense of self and not kowtowing to pressure of pretty-ing up what they write. That equals censorship and farce--it ceases being truth; it stops being pure.
Don't be what you are not. Don't write what is not.
People blog for various reasons and I have no qualms with that. I think if you write and it enriches your life and subsequently someone else's, then please continue and never lose it. The written word is a beautiful thing; it's always been the one thing that remains sacred to me. It's pure--and when it comes out of me, it's about the most spiritual thing I can do. I blog because I find it refreshing and it gives me a chance to filter my thoughts and to translate what's in my mind to the written word--not compromising or lessening what I'm thinking--either bemused or vitriolic. I don't believe in lying when I write. It's like going to the gym--I work out with my mind and fingers here; I exercise my God-given gift/ability.
Yet somehow, sometimes what I write seems to upset people. I'm not certain why. I don't feel a sense of regret; I don't apologize and the simplest thing I can say is, like a television program that you find offensive, don't tune in. Don't read it and you won't be offended. I'm not here to pretend.
So I will try to state the facts: about that whole e-mail at my birthday--why do so many people care about someone they never met (me) or how I view my ex-girlfriend or her gesture? I don't fake feeling things that are not; I don't act like I care about or live in the past. And I certainly don't feel an affection for a person (persons) that I never really felt an affection for to begin with. The bottom line here is that I'm not a sentimentalist. If that's cold, then that's your perception; I don't need to pretend being glad to hear from someone that I hadn't given a thought to in as many years as we'd been incommunicado. I could sit here and expound my thoughts as to why she decided to e-mail me, but it comes down to one thing: I really don't know why; I don't need to know why and I don't care why. So if you were angered by what I said before, you really need to concentrate on your own existence and don't worry about how I conduct myself.
This all is so easily avoidable if you just read these blogs as entertainment and not containing veiled references to anyone in particular. I've read blogs by writers my age and younger and I've seen some really cruel attacks and I can't fathom why so many people give a shit. For younger people, while they may not have the finesse of age, I hope they maintain a sense of self and not kowtowing to pressure of pretty-ing up what they write. That equals censorship and farce--it ceases being truth; it stops being pure.
Don't be what you are not. Don't write what is not.
posted by R L Ross at
8:22 PM
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