Writing.
Writing in the twenty-first century. I've been peeking and seeking in all kinds of little dark and not-so-dark areas of the virtual world for a napkin corner where I could scratch a few notes. The MySpace blog irritated me to no end. Facebook is all about prying and posting and not so much about writing. And I'm not at the point of creating my own web page just yet. I mean I'm not really selling anything...am I ? Or maybe.
So, through the gallant internet snakes of my friend TankMontreal, I have found this little space that I can call my own and see how long I keep this up. The next question is: do I really want to write everything ? Like... Everything ? Even in a journal, I'm cautious. I've had the humiliating experience of an ex-boyfriend who saw it fit to read my journal, have the parts he did not understand, translated, and tear out the parts he did not appreciate.
Another lover left me after reading a little passage that struck him the wrong way.
So here goes. See what happens.
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