Sunday, June 14, 2009

they're always there
like darkness in winter

baiting me
feeding off my need for self
entwining with every earnest inclination
corrupting

i counter their reasoning
'there will be time for that after'

deftly they retort
'your strong enough'
'you could handle it'

foregoing words i brandish my fist
beating them back
they retreat but are not vanquished
biding their time

a moment of indecision
they spring forth
with cajoling words they speak
'there's nothing wrong with your way'
'HE knows your heart, that's all that matters'

do i?

always a mystery it has been to me
something to be controlled
beaten down
never allowed to grow
untrusted
disregarded
misunderstood
ignored

what does it want?
i begin to listen

silence
nothing
a whisper
too soft

Friday, June 12, 2009

You know who you are.


I wish I was this subtle:





Stolen from xkcd.

My postal code has this envious distinction.

Recently (by which I mean today), I was wondering what caused me to start posting things here. I originally created my Agrican account so I could anonymously submit various things I had written to a critiquing site. I discovered that you could write the most useless drivel and people would still say that they liked it. Despite the aforementioned site's drawbacks I began to notice when I committed my actual fictionalized thoughts to a written format, I received much more in depth feedback then when I wrote something completely fictional.

In a roundabout way I one day came across a blog started by a friend of mine and through that and the various other wonders of the interweb, happened upon the blogs of several other people I knew, had met, heard of, seen once at a party/assembly/meeting. Guiltily I began to read them, and learned things about these people that I did not know, and never even suspected.

Eventually I read a post that I really wanted to comment on. I could have checked the box that would have let me submit my comment anonymously but decided instead to use my pseudonym. I liked the idea that while anonymous I would still have an identity, regardless of the fact there was nothing for anyone to colour it in with.

One of her posts was the result of one of those annoying (at least I find them annoying) internet games that seem to appear from time to time and make the rounds eventually winding up in everyone's in inbox after being forwarded for the 42ndth time. I had already done the quiz and feeling a little devious I decided to share my own results.

Somehow this innocuous action led me to begin to post other items. I wasn't really expecting anyone to read them, just liked the idea of someone I knew maybe seeing them. Almost immediately I started getting emails from people who I knew well or hardly at all demanding to know who I was or asking "is this you _______?" This has affected me to such an extent that I scrutinize each post to make sure that there is nothing that can point back to me. Even in my day to day conversations with people that I know or suspect may have read something I wrote I watch what I'm saying, careful not to state anything that could possibly link me to a comment I made on another blog or wrote on this one. I will even keep silent on entire topics or subjects that I feel passionately about out of fear that someone might somehow link it back to me.

I have become obsessed with maintaining my anonymity, not because I enjoy it but because I don't want to be judged on my attempts at creativity. This is ludicrous I know. In every other aspect of my life I am the epitome of confidence, if I want to do something I just do it yet to this I cannot commit.