Meeting Persephone

Thanks to Le Cornichon I've found the perfect description for my blog. How people read this garbage I write is beyond me. It means nothing, signifies less, and is so utterly unclear as to its purpose that I can't even make sense as to the point of the entire thing.

Initially the intention was to talk strictly of things spiritual. I wasn't going to drift into those other areas that "make me tick" but I found after a time that they go hand in hand with what makes up the spiritual side of me. What I've neglected to establish here is a real understanding of who I am - keeping that side of myself vague because, frankly, when one is online and allowing unknown "masses" into their psyche, the need for self-preservation motivates the self to be less open about the real goings on of their mind. Then there is the flip side of people who believe that it's the only safe place to be entirely themselves because there is that idea of anonymity protecting them and others from their real mentality and it's just peachy to let everything fly.

I have not confessed to a majority of thoughts and feelings that I have. I do not delve into the depths of the who, what, when, where, why, and how of me. So what the hell am I doing wasting time blogging for? Why do others subject themselves to reading this drivel? From the low readership it's fortunate that there aren't many who do.

I ramble on about things that mean little in the direct context of my life. But you want the truth? You can't handle the truth! Ok.. maybe you can. Maybe it's me who cannot handle the truth. Maybe the idea of hiding behind a monitor allows me moments, hours, days of normalcy that I don't get in my every day life and this is why I'm content not to divulge those parts of me that are really me. But without those bits of truth - it signifies nothing at all. It's all heat and air. Smoke and mirrors. Nothing at all. You've learned nothing from me and nothing of me and so where does that leave you? I've confessed nothing of importance and stated none of the reality of my life and so I gain nothing by trumpeting the things that I do here.

Perhaps it's all a waste of time. Blogging. Pretending that I have something to say or that I've said anything at all. Pretending that I can bond with others without ever being true to who I am. I write a blog entry and then never post it because it's uncomfortable instead of just admitting to myself that it's how I feel right now - it will pass. It's really a ridiculous way to approach the whole thing and if I were a wise person I'd do otherwise. I'd live with my uncomfortable parts and allow others to know them too, trusting that we all know that these things will pass. But once something is laid out online, it's there. Like the celebrity who might have donated thousands to a charity for years running who makes the grave mistake of wearing the wrong sunglasses one night and that now becomes their new identity.

But I've come to a conclusion. I need to do one of two things here. I either need to get more honest about who I am and why I do or don't do the things that I do or don't. Or I need to stop blogging. I don't need to keep record of pointless things for my own sake - I am already aware of these things. If I'm not willing to put my real self out there, there is no point to this blog. When I read what others have gleaned from reading this blog, I realize just how little I've given that informs anyone of who I am.

So for the next period of time (I have no idea how long it will last), I will reveal those things that I've hidden so carefully. They will either be well received and people will have a better understanding of me. Or they will be bothersome and turn people away. But regardless of outcome it will be honest.

And once again I've written an entry that means nothing and only proves the point of that initial quote....