ramanda's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- got no direction 03.03.04 10:34pm Is it possible that giving up my online diary was the best.decision.ever? These past two weeks I�ve felt free. My time on the internet is wholly my own again. Free at last. Free at last. Thank God almighty. No pressure to update. No pressure to comment. No pressure to link. No pressure to entertain, to impress, to sum up my life into digestible bits for the viewing public. And now, coming back to this space after a reprieve, (the first I�ve taken in my three years of doing this online diary thang) I feel content to type these small black words in this empty white box and post them in a place where only I can read them. No worries about offending anyone, about tailoring my language and my thoughts to an invisible audience. Just words. Just for me. I communicate for a living. I organize words and thoughts and concepts into digestible bits. I spend my days writing emails and job aids and manuals and presentations with an audience in mind. A large part of what I do is to try to get inside the minds of the people I write for so I can write better explanations and create more effective communications. And I guess I got tired of doing that here too. I spend 8 or 10 or 12 hours a day explaining things to other people. I�m tired of distilling my world for someone else to understand. It was hard at first. Several times a day I�d do or say or hear things that I wanted to post. Right after I locked up, I told Matt that I was struggling a little, that old habits die hard. Like when you break up with someone and you can�t help but miss them, catch yourself thinking about them, find yourself dialing their number on the phone. So here I am. And it�s a little strange, this doing this just for me. A part of me wonders why I�m bothering to put this down at all, if no one but me will read it. And I suppose it�s because at the end of the day, it�s the act of writing it all down that I love the most. I used to want to be an author, to publish poetry and stories and novels. I used to imagine myself on talk shows, talking about the brilliant, beautiful, stunning, heart-rending, hilarious book I�d written. I don�t know about any of that anymore. I quite like the idea of writing it down just to write it. And leaving it at that. -A 10:34 p.m. - 03.03.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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