However, there are a lot of things that I know I'll never write about. I don't share many of my very personal feelings. In a very apt post, Stephanie says,
Unlike some people, I can’t put my whole life out on the blog because, well, I’m a closed person by nature and there are thought that I protect religiously. Unfortunately, even from myself most times. I have this insane fear that one day when I die, all the scraps of paper I’ve written my random self on will be found, and then people will know me.
My problem is more that I'm not closed to myself at all. Rather, I often dig around inside myself and it's quite scary. Which is why I've really opened up to about four people. Even my very best friends only know fragments of the whole Curtis.
Remember the Serenity Now episode of Seinfeld where Jerry started to let out his emotions and became caring Jerry? He encourages George to open up and share all of his emotions with him. After George does this it scares Jerry straight. I've found that when I share too much a similar, if not worse, situation is created.
Two of the people who really got to know me have little to nothing to do with me. Of course, knowing myself, I figured that would eventually happen. Yet, like watching a poorly made snuff film, I just couldn't turn away. I walked straight into those with a smile on my face under the illusion that it would be good for me.
There is absolutely no reason to open myself up to other people. At least not any more than is needed for friendship. I think that I prefer to remain a little mysterious. There is nothing as painful as offering all of yourself to someone and having that rejected. It is the type of pain that slaps you with your own glove and then steals it. Bah.
When I do post the occasional heartfelt "blah blah blah" know that you've caught me with my guard down. In most situations I don't delete what I've posted, because I figure that the I'll bury it in the archives before many people catch my mistake. In real life I'm even more tight-lipped than here.
