I do not write well when my soul is not quiet, and I have had strings pulling at me in several directions lately. I really don’t write for myself. I always have someone or a group of someone’s in mind when I set out to put something down.
A lot of writers tell me that they only write for themselves, but I am not too inclined to believe them. Why pen something publicly in that case? File your little missives away in an encrypted password file and be done with it.
I write either to be understood, or to entertain. But a problem arises when I only want to be understood by some, or wish to entertain some, but not others. I only have one site left that a very select few know where it is and have the password to get into it. But I haven’t posted there in a very long time because the audience is so restricted.
Posting here gets more views, but then there are some reading this that I am unwilling to share certain topics with, so my style gets cramped. I end up in paralysis, unable to write for either faction. Yet I love each group.
I want to break the mold, sometimes, but that isn’t possible. So I continue to live two lives. And now I am considering a new online identity, one that can write risqué material, that can use foul language, that can plumb the limits of primal instincts, and do so in a wide forum.
In short, I want to go back to being a phony. Or maybe I am a phony who wants to get real. It doesn’t matter.
And I think I just solved my dilemma. Thank you for listening …