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The first sign of madness is talking to yourself.   The second sign?



But that’s pretty much what all online communication comes down to, isn’t it?   Blogging, social networking, Twitter, Facebook…Having a prolonged public conversation with yourself.   And you really don’t know who the fuck is listening, or why, and most of the time they don’t like to interrupt anyway.

Because they… I mean – you… have your own agendas, right?   You read for amusement, thrills, gossip, secrets – to recognize yourself in the mirror, to be in on the kill, to hear how the dark side lives.   But often – you’re bloody quiet about it.   Reading now is solitary, passive, introverted – it used to be loud and aloud and allowed to be active and social.   And thus writing now is that first sign of madness.

See – when I started this whole fucking blogging thing, it was a passing amusement for myself, to a dark faceless empty readership world.   But now – now there’s an audience I know, and it’s a hostile, dangerous one.   Py first, then Amelia found it to comment on, and then Brix took it  over– this blog has a crowd of menacing faces watching it now, way more fucking scary than any hard-ass reviewer…

So it’s not so easy to write.   And it’s not because touch-typing sucks without a little finger…   No.   It’s because now I have to think about to whom I’m writing when I used to be so fucking careless about that, what I’m giving away about myself and where I’m leaving room for anyone to – well.   Stake their claim.   Fuck you Py, for always been so fucking right

The solution?   Continue to write smarter.  

Oh – and reduce that bloody hostile demographic by one – or two…

We’ll call that editing, shall we?   The final cut.


I always relish a challenge.





  1. “The final cut”

    Deep and clean I hope 🙂

    Your writing, so hostile, so bloodied, but so beautiful.

  2. When this is all over & you have finally beaten A, I hope you abandon all this caution. Write freely again! Please don’t learn any lessons.

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