It’s a bit bloggy.

This is amazingly worded and amazingly close to how I feel about people who know me in the “real world” seeing into me. I am unusually honest here. Because I am, I find writing here a cathartic release. Because I am, I ALSO find writing here trippy and terrifying when the thought of being seen unmasked pops up. Concept is beautifully captured in this post. Please check out her blog.

Jots and Tits

I have blogged now for 13 years. Before that, I journaled and have a very colorful and private and horrifying collection of my written words from the time I was 13. Pictures. Collages. Every color pen under the rainbow. Things that would trip you out – before and after drugs. Dream recollections that would seem brand new if I had the courage to ever read any of that again.

I dread it. I dread looking back at what I have said. I dread hearing myself recorded, or seeing myself on a screen in front of me. It’s like a tidal wave of every kind of spider crawling at me as fast as they do. I mean I’m talking serious fright here.

When I got online, I pledged to keep no secrets. To bare my soul to the internet and see what would happen. It wasn’t about how many or how…

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