Sometimes you will   say or write different things if you know that no one is listening or  reading  your thoughts. Then there is the question, well how much  exactly do I  share? Do you tell the whole truth? And what happens when  something is  the truth, for right now, but isn't the truth later? Or  what happens  when you thought you knew the truth, but you really  didn't. And what  happens when your own truth isn't someone else's, and  that that someone else  is someone you love very much, or some one you  live with, or someone you  raised or was raised by . . .
How  much do the people in my future (and with blogs, my present) want to  know about  their past? Will any of it really matter? Will it stop  someone from  making a terrible mistake? Feel that this too will pass?  See that it could be  overcome? Realize it has no power over them?  Believe that because you  think  it, it's okay for them to think it  also?
Is what I do  everyday, and sometimes twice  on the weekends, going to really matter to  someone that will probably  spend their days totally different than I  spend mine? I think I am  going to say "yes" to that one. Because for as  many "things" that  change in the world, there will still be people--my  people--that will  still be doing the same old dumb, smart, funny, crazy  and hopeful  things. Although the world may change and look different,  human nature,  carnal woman, civilization and crazy families will still  be reacting  and dealing with life from a distinctly human point of view.
I   just had one thought: maybe there will be a pill that will  change all  that "humanness". Maybe my great-great granddaughter won't need to read  my  journal--or listen to her parents--or do what right. Maybe there  will be  a pill that will change all that, and pharmacology will be  better than psychology?
 
 
 

 
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Doesn't matter. You write for you. Your words will be inspiring and interesting because they were uniquely you. Because you had the courage to be you, through and through.
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ReplyDeleteDeep diving… I like your conclusion. Write on my love. Future generations will marvel at who you are and were—and will delight in the mundane.
ReplyDeleteLove,
T