Shut Up, Jamie
I am a loud mouthed shit talker. I’ll give you a moment to get over the shock and surprise….
I’m pretty active on this site and on Twitter, using both platforms as a way to express myself, to connect with friends, and to vent about whatever frustration is currently circling around my head like a vulture. I tend to focus a lot on the people in my life, both the ones I keep by choice and the ones that float in and out by chance, circumstance, or simply because they don’t know when to quit. Sometimes I take someone’s situation and comment on it (without bringing the person’s name into it), sometimes a friend will inspire a thought that I’ll go on about, and sometimes someone just ticks me off and I need to yell a bit. Whatever the cause, the chances are that if we’re friends, I have or will write about you in some form or another.
I do my best not to be specific. If you are dead to me, I’ll probably throw the initial of your first name in there but I won’t out you specifically or link to your personal pages. With the people who are still in my life, I find it best to leave it anonymous. I had a friend recently inspire a blog and immediately know it was inspired by him, which was a bit strange for me. I know these updates are thrown onto Twitter where anyone can click away and end up here, but I don’t think of my friends actually taking time out to read my nonsense. I suppose that gives me a false sense of security to talk about whatever I want without consequence.
I do not get into things that are told to me in confidence, that seem personal, that seem private, or that aren’t any of my damn business. If a friend confided in me that she cheated on her husband/boyfriend/girlfriend, that would not be something I’d put on here, anonymous or not. (This is also not something that has happened since I was a teenager; my friends are pretty straightforward) I also don’t post frivolous nonsense when it comes to my friends; if you wreck your car because you’re acting irresponsibly, I’m not going to blab about it on here and risk potentially embarrassing you (although I will probably pick on you in person). I do my best to make sure that anything inspired by a friend is appropriate to stick on here or common enough that it’s something we all could deal with.
Writing on here is therapeutic for me and I don’t think any topic should be off limits so long as I’m not being cruel or trying to start some silly internet war. I can’t count the number of times I wanted to post a link to someone’s Twitter account or post screen shots with personal information so every visitor could see what I see and maybe understand a bit better. I have stopped myself many times from adding so many specifics that it would be impossible not to know exactly who I was talking about. And it wasn’t because I had any respect for these people, but because I didn’t want to be THAT person. I didn’t want to get a bit of payback on a person by giving them exposure here; I try to instead vaguely vent and hope that they eventually just screw up and expose themselves.
Due to the fact that I vent so much, I sometimes find myself feeling guilty or afraid that I offended someone who wasn’t on my mind as my fingers were tapping on the keyboard. What if I write about sloppy drunks and a friend, who I recently had drinks with, misunderstands and thinks I’m talking about the night out we had together? What if s/he instantly becomes angry or upset with me, slowly withdrawing until our friendship is broken? There are some instances where I post something and see a random friend vanish from my life for a bit. My paranoid mind can’t shake the fact that my words here could potentially be the cause.
I feel torn. Do I stop writing in order to spare feelings that may not even be hurt or do I keep writing and learn to stop being so damn paranoid about everything? I honestly don’t feel that I can accomplish either. I need to get things off my chest, so quitting this is off the table. As far as killing my paranoia, I’ve been trying that for years without any luck. The lack of solution is the reason I’m writing this particular entry. If my friends see anything, let them see this. Let them know that I’m not directing my anger towards them, spreading their personal information around, or simply being a bitch. Let them know that I wouldn’t joke with them in one place, then come here and bash their character. Let them know that, much like movies and TV shows, any relation to anyone living or dead is often purely coincidental.
If you’re here, you’re probably also one of my Twitter buddies. We likely text or email from time to time, see each other when we can, and those things are concrete signs that you matter to me. If you matter, I respect you, which means I would not and will not cross any lines and sub-blog about you or your personal information. If you suck as a person, we’re not friends, or you piss me off in Walmart, you are fair game. But my friends are my friends and I like you guys too much to publicly bash you, regardless of whether or not your name has been brought into it or not. Please help me with my paranoia and try to understand. I’d tell you to eat a dick well before I write about you the way I write about Tubbs.