Sticky Tape

The writer’s block which at first seemed insignificantly transient in nature is turning into an ugly malignancy. Blogging, self indulgent as it may be, is a form of reprieve for me- yet the denial seems hugely obvious even to myself as I attempt to conform to the anonymity of cyber space while maintaining a fair list of links to other less pretentious blogs.
It is fair that I admit then, that when I blog, my outpourings tend to be on the personal side but that during the creative process, I write with the notion that no one I know will read my entries whilst knowing the person sourcing the chronicle.
And that is why the blog seems to swallow itself up every once in a while- the realization that people I know personally, rather than the strangers I”ll never meet, are allowed to see into me through my blog just unnerves the hell outta me! That the people I see will somehow feel obliged to think that they know me from a few lines on a web page just sounds a little creepy.
Most people have trust issues (if you can call them that) to some extent or the other, a sort of defense mechanism. After all, you can’t really get hurt if you don’t expect too much. If you don’t really know someone, you don’t really have the rights to expectation do you?
Personally, I’d prefer not to make references to myself that succeed in painting a portrait of antisocial paranoia by usage of the phrase. Still, I think I’ve only just learnt something about myself.

I find myself dealing with people in three ways.
With people whom I find little in common with, I reflexively ‘clam up’ and zone out. I know this makes me come across as rude (no surprises), or just hideously dull. I think a genetic anomaly might be to blame for it, my mother seems to do the same thing, and i'd prefer not to pin it on social conditioning.

With people whom I genuinely like, people who seem to emit vibes/pheromones? that I can’t help but respond to, I find myself willing to go to the ends of the earth for. Nothing seems too much to ask of me, and perhaps I seem like a push-over at times. I suppose there must be a price to pay for everything; for my allegiance, these people are usually landed with the misfortune of having to deal with the bits of me sticking out of a time warp from a decade ago.

And there are the people whom I let myself trust, and this lot of people is part of an acutely exclusive class. It is only from these people that I seek out sympathetic ears, padded shoulders and a hand to squeeze.

It sure does sound hypocritical to have a relationship with a person and to only expect the trust to run one way, perhaps bordering even on dishonesty.

Perhaps it really is a question of ego. Pride leaves no room for vulnerability does it?

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In posting this, I'l have a huge contradiction to account for. Only so many of the people who come to beforethesunrises will have wandered here aimlessly by hitting on 'next blog'. Or perhaps the sitemeter numbers will continue to go down to the extent that the things I say here won't be seen by anyone at all.