Pity and terror
It's kind of JiB to mention my blog but I feel vaguely ambivalent about it. I looked back at the early entries. These were written, or so I told myself, for my own satisfaction. I had no intention for writing for anyone but myself, and if people stumbled on the blog, I didn't care whether or not they found it interesting or well-written. I was careful not to say anything that might give clues about my identity and more importantly, about L's. And I have always known she would be utterly horrified if she ever saw it, her suspicion that I am dangerously mad would be vindicated. Now I'm so desperate that I think I shall tell her about it.
I am really not sure why we devote energy to these things. Do we hope to evoke pity and terror in the reader? I suppose I'm puzzling about the aesthetic theory of LIAC. and since my understanding of such thought stops with Aristotle, you will all have read clever post-modernist blighters who have made sense of it all. In which case tell me, why the hell do we do it? We all on LIAC would die of shame if we were identified; most of us would be mortified if the unattainable or departed lovers we write about ever saw anything we've put here.
I am really not sure why we devote energy to these things. Do we hope to evoke pity and terror in the reader? I suppose I'm puzzling about the aesthetic theory of LIAC. and since my understanding of such thought stops with Aristotle, you will all have read clever post-modernist blighters who have made sense of it all. In which case tell me, why the hell do we do it? We all on LIAC would die of shame if we were identified; most of us would be mortified if the unattainable or departed lovers we write about ever saw anything we've put here.
posted by Lovelorn Swain | 9:42 pm
As far as I go, most of my friends and ex's and girls I go out with know that I write on here. Indeed, some of my posts have been about their reactions to reading my posts. But that's just me; I only remain anonymous in case my parents find me using such filthy fucking language. My mother would have a heart attack, bless her.
As far as why we do it - why *I* do it, in any case - I think it's two main reasons. One, so that we might gather our thoughts and assemble them sensibly. The very act of writing a post or comment on a journal which doesn't suffer stuttering idiots gladly means that we try and elucidate our feelings properly and in so doing perhaps understand them a little better. Two, so that we can release certain anxieties and tensions. Sure, you can keep private journals for that, but knowing that *someone* has read them can sometimes make it work so much better in this respect.
I spluttered further shit about the strange on-goings of it, here: LIAC Dynamics
I do it for the fame. Obviously.
I'd like to think that I am comfortable enough with my decisions as a lover, ex lover, etc. to not be worried about my past reading my present thoughts.
I'd hate to think that my past is taking such an interest in my current situation anyway. But I suppose if they are, then there is a slight satisfaction to knowingly inflicting some sort of change, good or bad on my better or worse half, from once upon a time.
And of course, I do it for JiB.
Thanks JiB, and good of you to spare the time from the tiresome business of being worshipped and adored :-)
I'm beginning to think I should tell L about the blog.
I once "confessed" on LIAC that I was Lord Rees-Mogg. I'm sorry to say this was a decpetion, I am in truth the shade of Sapper, author of the Bulldog Drummond stories, the sort of manly English fiction that young people today eschew in favour of the effete outpourings of foreigners.
Heh yes - I was still recovering from masturbating over one set of compliments when I saw yet another, and another, etc. It's a satisfying yet frustrating period of my life.
As far as telling L about your blog is concerned - why would you do that?
It's very make or break, isn't it?