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Welcome To My Home...
October 4, 2002The Privacy Issue Nothing of interest has happened recently. Of course, by that statement, I mean that nothing has happened that I wish to share with the world. Sure, stuff happens all the time. Some of it you hear about; some of it you don't; some of it (as shocking as it seems) I don't want you to. So why write an online journal if that forces me to hold back, you're wondering. First, there's you guys. Posting my thoughts hopefully gives you something a bit different to read every other day, whether you're bored, curious, depressed (although this probably isn't the best place to cure depression...), or have a genuine interest in my life. Then there's me. I've tried writing a private journal before, but it just didn't work. Remember that book, Dear Mr. Henshaw? The kid wrote every one of his diary entries as a letter to some guy, because writing "Dear Diary" seemed stupid to him. The same thing goes for me, except that in my mind, writing "Dear Mr. Henshaw" instead of "Dear Diary" seems no less stupid. I needed some greater purpose that would actually prompt me to keep a journal. The answer turned out to be posting everything online and pretending that the whole world was reading it. This, of course, leads to the issue of privacy (or lack thereof). You can go to the toy store now and buy diaries with more intruder protection than an average bank vault. They come in nice little fluffy pink covers, sporting padlocks, voice-recognition software, electronic sounding alarms, probably even retinal scans and self-destruct features by now. The point is, people seem to take their privacy very seriously - especially in regards to journals. You may be surprised to hear that I'm no different. In fact, I'm probably even worse than most people in this regard. When I tried, on numerous occasions, to keep a private journal, preventing other people from even knowing about it (let alone being able to read it) took a greater priority over the entries. Even so, I would never write anything that I wouldn't discuss openly, under the paranoid (and probably very valid) assumption that anything I write will eventually be read by others. At one point, I decided that this was stupid. If people want to know what's on my mind, I don't want them to have to go behind my back to find out. So I've put it all in one convenient location. Bringing everything into the open from the start eliminates any unnecessary paranoia and secrecy, giving me a very open place to express my thoughts with purpose. This also, as is painfully obviously, vastly widens my audience. I am writing now, not just to myself, but to my family, friends, acquaintances, teachers, very bored strangers, and stalkers, and I would like to retain some degree of respect from all of these people (except maybe stalkers). As a result, the things I would only discuss with particular individuals or not at all will probably never appear on this site. I bring this up now only because I've been in a pretty poor mood the last couple days for a number of reasons I don't wish to discuss, some that I probably will, and others that I already have. Whatever the case, I've been a bit lost for the last week, and I needed to write something that addresses this fact even if that's all it does. Hopefully a few more walks through the arboretum will let me sort things out, and I'll be back to my usual jovial self (Ha) in no time. ![]()
October 5, 2002I also have tried... I also have tried many times on occasion to keep a diary of some sort. But why tell you about why they all failed when I can show you? Just look at my blog. It's jam-packed with nothing but crap. My thoughts are too meaningless to grace the effort of physical paper, it has to be online. Eventually, one day, I'll say to myself, "Gee Vic, that's a lot of crap. What percentage of your life did you spend writing all that?" And knowing me, I'll go figure out the percentage. Once sufficiently shocked and appalled, I'll delete it, vowing to never attempt to keep a journal again, only to break that vow a few more years down the road. *sigh* -Victor |
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