I am not my blog

self reflexive

overly explanatory

disorganized

verbose

at-times-histrionic

synchopated

yes.

but anachronistic

somewhat jumbled,

not the whole picture

not even the whole picture of the part of the picture i know

edited

scheduled

audience-driven

electronic

easily monitored.

nope. none.

I’m just saying (and i feel like having to explain this more is just a sign that I’m being loved more and more by people who are trying to keep track but getting confused) that these posts, they are

snap shots

of one angle

of a GIANT STORY

parts of which i share

in a manner that I can only hope will be helpful.

but reading my blog is NOT knowing me. It’s reading my blog. It’s hearing some of my stories.

it is NOTHING EVEN CLOSE to knowing what’s going on WHEN it’s going on. And this isn’t an assault on you (or it’s not meant to be) its ACTUALLY a sign that I feel guilty.

I’ve got this thing about lying. I hate it. I hate the idea, even, of confusing you, of telling something that isn’t everything (even though I know you don’t need or want to know everything) because I know a lot of you love me, and care,

so my point is: I am not my blog. And if you want to know what’s really going on (as in, this all is stuff that’s going on. But not all of it, and not when it’s happening) ask me.

I’ll TRY to do better, but i feel like I’m just catching up a lot lately and I don’t know if the answer is to write more or to let myself off the hook.

Also, houndstooth coffee is really good. And effective for fuel if you need to pour-out-your-heart-blog on the quick.

 

i see you see me, if just a part from being apart.

 

 

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