It has recently come to my attention
(as it ought to have a while ago) that there are more people reading
my blog than I like to pretend that there are. When I write my posts,
I usually imagine my readership to be either my closest friends or
perfect strangers, and not really anyone in between. But since that
is clearly not the case and most of you are in reality casual
acquaintances, I'm beginning to feel a tad bashful about the way I
have conveyed myself over the past few months.
I went back and re-read several posts
this afternoon and found myself wincing over some of the more
melodramatic phrases and pessimistic outlooks. Certainly the emotion
was genuine in these moments, but the posts don't necessarily convey
how I am doing on the whole, on a day-to-day basis. I write to
process my thoughts, and invariably the times when I most need to do
this are days when I am not feeling incredibly optimistic about life.
I don't think I'm as depressed as I make myself sound—at least I
hope not.
It's a tricky business, writing a blog,
especially when it's a blog basically all about me. If it feels
uncensored to you, just imagine all the things I've deleted! Still, I
should be more careful about what I'm offering to the scrutiny of the
public eye. For those of you who haven't interacted with me in person
recently, don't worry yourself over-much. My more hopeful moments
just haven't been as interesting to write about thus far.
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