Speaking of poetry, this non-sensical sentence that showed up in my spam filter struck me as oddly artistic: “When these pretzels eradicate one should tarnish what they steal or blink their wide nature.”

This past week was exhausting: a series of “customer disservice” frustrations, a day-long photo shoot with Alex Colby and The Mermaid Parade.

Last night was the sort of night that made me wish I could sleep outside.

The LED that I brought home from Coachella is still emitting light!

These random thought fragments are why I love blogging.

I began this exercise in extreme navel-gazing as a way to cultivate discipline, to get into the habit of writing every day. Friends recommended that I focus on one topic: Dating or Aging or Sex. But I’m too much of a Gemini to be that single-minded. I have lots to say about a lot of things. So the blog has become like a diary of sorts, self-reflection and self-help, an arena to air my concerns and neuroses, mull over my troubles and seek reassurance through the ether, as well a very public kind of therapy. It’s an opportunity to think aloud and, occasionally, receive a response.

But something happened recently that has stifled my self-expression, curbed my creativity and impacted my sanity. When I blogged about hearing some unappealing news that, quite frankly, didn’t involve or directly affect me, the post garnered my highest readership yet, probably because it involved drama: sex and intrigue and heartbreak. It inspired a few responses that also made for good reading. Unfortunately it provoked an unwanted comment from the subject of the post, the subject of more than one post, in fact: the ex-boyfriend. And it has left me feeling a bit paralyzed.

I’ve mentioned that I will soon be seeing this man at three meals a day, in an environment where there is, quite literally, no escape. We will have to co-exist for three months in as harmonious a fashion as possible. In the past, that hasn’t been easy. The times when we were in close proximity but not “together” brought drama on a level I had never before experienced. So I am apprehensive. And I have no interest in antagonizing him or escalating the drama in any way. Yet I do feel compelled to write about it because that is how I cope. (And in my self-involved imagination, I’ve felt like I’ve been letting my readers down lately, since my posts have lacked their usual depth. My candor and ability to tell my truth, unvarnished and “out there,” is what my readers tell me they find compelling.)

I was aware that he read my blog because of an email he sent me back in March that made reference to a post. My response to him included two sentences that informed him how I felt about it: “It seems you’re well aware how things are going for me.” and “I find communicating with you to be excruciatingly painful.” That was the last I heard from him, thankfully, and I assumed he had moved on.

Why he chose to read my blog again is beyond me. He has, in the past, complained bitterly about women who have “stalked” him and I found his interest in my day-to-day life to be somewhat stalker-like. We had severed all ties, as communicating with him in my few attempts at friendship had been disappointingly unsuccessful. And hurtful. Perhaps mutual friends pointed him in my direction because he was the subject of the post. In any event, his response rattled me. He essentially wanted to censor me.

Whatever his motivations were, this is my little corner of the web. Mine. To demand that I never mention him again is unreasonable. A great percentage of my readership is comprised of total strangers who’ve found me through mutual interests — or mutual tag clouds. Anyone reading who does know me is capable of making their own decisions on who — and what — to believe, as well as who to like or dislike. None of my words here are intended to inflict damage upon anyone. They’re not lies. Or “yarns,” as he qualified them. They are my experiences and my emotions, my ideas and my opinions. To which I am, unequivocally, entitled.

If he reads this, let’s hope he agrees.

One response to “Fragmented

  1. People love drama, especially if it is not theirs…or if not drama, then a good gossip or the combination of two.

    Everything that is put out on Internet becomes public, and information travels fast and is easily available by millions in a jiffy through this channel of media.Chances are that all of us have access to your site; yes, this is your private corner with personal dwellings, but it is nevertheless open to the public eyes.You made it available to us. Friend or no friend. You have a right to call any reader at this point a stalker or a creep, depending of course if you know/assume who they are and their background stories. For those of us who are more incognito, we still are in the reader’s category. And for a writer ( like any artist) it is important to have the audience, what the audience contributes back or not, is beyond your control.

    The most probable reason why that man was reading your blog should not come as a surprise to you. Most likely, out of mere curiosity; most likely to feel a bit of power that someone was still carrying a torch to him- it is a great boost to the ego, even if the relationship doesn’t work. And the odds are that you were flattered with his interest in your day to day life. It wont be true to say that you didn’t like it… though I can only make such a presumption. It is an ancient game between a man an a woman… him reading your blog, you knowing that he was doing it – the same old… that same old will find it’s place in the past, when one of you will naturally lose the curiosity about one another, and move on towards a better and new future. Then it will be for real: ” I’m not interested in her blog/ I’m not interested in him reading my blog, because I don’t really care anymore.”

    Good writing comes from talent, honesty, truth and valid, strong point of views and opinions. Your readers only have the ability to know your part of the story, and we are either buying it or not. Let’s agree that’s a win-win, for you, who writes and speaks to us, and the readers, who enjoy your daily musings.

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