It’s a journal, not a confessional

I sometimes face the same problem with my online journal as I do/did writing poetry. The temptation to edit myself during or after the fact. I guess with something you know people can see, it happens. Only with the journal, I haven’t chosen to control access to it. That would defeat the purpose. I know people close to me read it, and with the exception of one “how the hell could you say that about me?” it’s never been a problem. Though I admit, at times I do hesitate to write things in it. Another self-defeats-self’s-purpose move, I guess. I just wanted to avoid situations where I’m perhaps too polite about something and the involved parties flock to my journal to see how I “really” feel. It’s a journal, not a confessional. Then again, if I strive to be more honest in the offline me, then the online me should hold no surprises.

Like tonight, I feel I was honest with Christopher, I simply wasn’t as wordy with him, though if he reads what I wrote, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, just a clarification. That’s one thing I like about him, he can read my thoughts, for good or ill and process them rather than confront me with them. Though part of me thinks that I have friends that just read through it looking for their names or titillating details.

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