There's a fine line between speaking truth and having boundary issues, between being openly honest and revealing too much. You've heard it before. You've been there. Perhaps it was when you were in line at the grocery check out and the cashier, in the three minutes it took to ring your purchases, told you all about her mother's hysterectomy and her daughter's drug addiction and predilection for bad boys. Or maybe it was the friendly acquaintance who was suddenly telling you the sordid details of his divorce. Then again... it just might have been some fool of a blogging chick who bombarded you with every thought and every bit of emotional bullshit and every philosophical cramp that she came up against over the course of two plus years. Yeah. That.
It's a very, very fine line... that tiny, almost invisible hair between, "I'll be who I am and say what I want to say" and "tell me I didn't just say that... the fuck was I thinking?!"
Funny thing is, I'm an intensely private person. I don't like people prying. Yet, here I am most days, spilling all there is to spill and not giving a rat's patootey who reads it or what they think of it. I'm not asking for validation here, I'm just sayin'. Y'know? It's an odd dichotomy is all. Especially since I'm one of those people who, when asked, "what's on your mind?" I have a hard time coming up with an answer that doesn't sound trite or self-pitying, or just ... dumb. Or even worse, having to mutter something like "Uh. I dunno. I'm okay."
Do I share too much? Do I share nothing? Do I share some profound blather that kept me up to the wee hours? The Gypsy says, "Ante up. Don't be shy." It's about then that I find I've not only stumbled over the line, I've fairly well danced across it and I'm about 11 miles out of town. "What line? Fuck the line." Brave, bold and courageous. Right. More like I've got the magic slippers strapped to my feet and I can't stop the freekin' dance even when I want to.
Rest assured, more's coming. I'm dancing as fast as I can. No one reads these things anyway, right?
A couple of new scribbles:What Makes It
Point of Freedom