Just had…
a moderately excrutiating experience where work colleagues asked if I had a blog. I said yes. I gave them the address of another blog I keep - where the second item down was a fairly open account of how I had lost a friend, and dealing with the grief. I was mortified. I shouldn’t have given it. And why, yet, should it bother me that people I vaguely know read it, when it’s open to potentially millions I don’t? I don’t flatter myself that my blog gets that much traffic, nor that it ever will. But it made me consider ‘brand me’. It’s alright to tell my deepest rambling thoughts to strangers – why? They can’t judge. Sometimes anonymity is a helping hand. As so much of my activities are traceable, online, what image do I want to promote, of myself. You can’t help but – when everything is branding…
But then I remember when I was younger, a movement, an inclination to claim the texts written, claim them to your name and be proud of the creation of a narrative around your life. Me and a couple of friends in Berkeley California dreaming of being a movement, striving, running, stretching our pose to breaking point.
I’ve made the decision to keep these ruminations to this blog, which is anonymous. Can’t work out yet whether I’m comfortable with everyone looking at my laundry, dirty or otherwise…
2 years ago • Notes