I have 3 main writing outlets. One is my “dark” journal which is password protected and may never see the light of day. Perhaps I’ll leave clues when I die for the grandkids to figure out in order to open that one. The other is my “thoughts” journal which are thoughts that I have that aren’t completely private, but, just don’t want exposed publicly. And then there’s this blog. Which is, of course, public… well to the one or two people that know about it and read it.
The issue is that all 3 spaces occupy parts of my brain. I may talk openly in my “dark” journal and then only scratch the surface in my blog. But, it’s all open in my brain. There are times where I think I’ve “exposed” my inner thoughts to the world only to remember, some time later, that I’ve buried those thoughts.
I would expose more of my “thoughts” and I really sorta want to, but, I fear my thoughts regarding things around me wouldn’t be accepted well if people truly found out what I’m thinking. But then, I self-censor in a way that I wish I wouldn’t. But, is probably for the best for humanity.
Another current issue is that in my non-online journaling (ok, even in my online blogging!) I tend to dwell on the past too much and fail to look forward. Honestly, I wasn’t always like that. There were the “Old Byron” days where I didn’t care what others thought. At all. I would forge ahead without regard to fellow man in order to plod the course ahead of me.
And then, apparently, I got soft.
I write as a means of self-expression. I also write in order to have a conversation with myself as a means to process. Process thoughts. Process conversations. Process life. I’m at a stage in life right now where I feel I am OVER processing things. Looking back too much to try to find answers. Looking back to see where I have failed. Revisiting old wounds. Writing has been helpful in some of those processes. I vent to the screen rather than to fellow man. And in the process, serve to prevent a heated exchange. Even in “exposing” my thoughts via the blog, I feel a better approach is possible.
So, maybe the issue isn’t the 3 outlets, but the outlet itself!
Do I write about things I’m feeling, even if exploring the darkness, or do I keep thoughts at bay by writing about butterflies and puppy dogs?
Tomorrow starts the story, “Jake, the Lost Boxer”.
