Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them,
and pretty soon you have a dozen.
That you received this means that you are on a special list, that has grown over the years, of people I felt closest too, on these facebook pages, whose discretion I trusted, and with whom I felt I could share some of the more personal revelations. For my own housekeeping purposes, I named that list “close friends.” Looking over the list the other day, it occured to me that, although you have all, at one point or another, agreed to be my facebook friend, none of you agreed to be on the special list, and probably don’t realize you were.
Over the years, I haven’t used the close friends list, too often. As I intend to use my blog, daily, and often in a more revelatory way, this year, access to these entries, through Facebook, is going to be limited to my close friends group.
I am supposing that some, maybe all, of you on my list, may not wish to know more about me, or my interests, than my general entries provide. I have already begun pruning the list, removing those names from the list that have not responded to any posting of mine for a year or more. If any of you still on this list, as evidenced by receipt of this posting, would also prefer not participating in this project, please reply, within the week, asking to have your name removed from the list. You will remain on my general friends list, unless you unfriend me, or ask me to unfriend you.
Please do not think you will hurt my feelings, or otherwise offend me, if you want to be off the list. I do not mean this as an ego thing, but I do recognize that I am, quite often, an acquired taste, being too too, too often (hows that for a phrase?). Some prefer me in small doses.
Oddly, I feel weird writing this. It sounds too much like those embarrassing posts where people are asking “am I pretty?”, or I’m so lonesome, hug me posts. I always think those post both sad and a little creepy. Thinking about it though, in some ways, most post, by most people, are just more subtle about the need for ego-stroking.
When I was a child, there was always someone to whom I had to report. They didn’t have to be any more involved than being willing to be someone that was there, to be an occasional voice that said “No!”, or “You’re full of shit, you’d better rethink that.” Someone who could, and would, when necessary, warn me of dangers of which I wasn’t aware. I don’t know what direction this project is going to take, I only know I need to take it. Along the way, I want a few people to lean on, be responsible to. I’m not expecting that there will be an overwhelming response to everything I write. I just want the possibility of someone guiding me when I need to be guided, challenging me when I need to be challanged. It makes it easier to write, when there is a sense of a target.
I am never going to promise to make sense, though I will promise to try. Think of this entry as one of those tries.