Emily Dickinson once remarked that she didn't care if anyone read anything she wrote. Funny, though, how she arranged for there to be poems in the bottom of her drawer so someone could find them. She had to have known that someone eventually would. No empty-headed cupcake, that Emily Dickinson.
Besides, if she considered her brain enough of a repository for her poems, how come she took the time to write them down? Would she really have been afraid of forgetting them, and if so, why would it matter whether she forgot them herself, since she was the only one she was remembering them for? Nope, sorry. Not buying it.
Make no mistake: I want to be read. That's the only way I can explain to myself the fact that this is my 4th blog in 3 years. Having said that, I have started this one because my life has changed significantly and even people who previously befriended me as a person have canceled their subscriptions. If anyone wants to follow me from that cyberliterary life into this one, welcome, but if not, adios compadre (insert Big-Lebowski-inspired cowboy accent here).
Because I have done despicable things in the past little while (although not lately) and don't blame anyone who doesn't want to talk to me ever again because of them. I ask myself how much anyone I meet from here on in needs to know about the life I led briefly, whether it's dishonest not to disclose what an asshole I've been or whether it's just pointless self-deprecation, because who the hell never screwed up before. Suffice it to say I can look at my life's unexpected belly flop and my subsequent behavior up until not very long ago and go, yeeecch, what was that about?
And I guess all I know for sure is that I've learned guilt is just a self-indulgent and paralyzing and lazy excuse for not getting on with your life. And anybody who would prefer to remember me doing wrong instead of watching me try to get things right this time around is free to do so; hell, criticizing others takes a lot less effort than believing they can change for the better.
Though they say forgiveness burns more calories.
In short. New life, new blog.
1 comment:
"Belleza".- what we all search between the lines we read, and the ones we write. And sometimes, it is what we have inside, but we don't dare to look at it.
As far as I know you, you're not blured. You just need another mirror to dicover youself.
Greetings, "guapa".
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