The time has finally come when I am not able to write openly about just anything. Like it or not, I must consider any and all potential readers, and any potential ramifications that my ramblings might have. This is weird to me.
I love sharing my nonsense with any of my friends who wish to indulge themselves, and not only get lost in my nonsense, but conjure up some of their own, as well. And because of the often wonderful, if not distracting world that is social networking, I can do so anytime I darned well please. That's pretty neat.
That being said, it's becoming evident to me that I must now consider my audience. Generally speaking, I can talk about whatever I want, I suppose. Whether it be my seemingly hot-and-cold trivial sports jargon, the occasional pop culture jab, or any of my other overly-opinionated hooey (according to the masses, I imagine), I can write whatever I want...or so I once thought.
I cannot write about one particular topic that occasionally pulls at my core--due to one of my Facebook friends who happens to be a relative (err, sort of). Even the mere raising of a particular topic, if seen, could be disastrous. Ironically, this particular topic was at hand in what I still feel is my best piece of writing ever--a MySpace blog from August 12, 2008. It's still posted there, if anyone is overly curious--the relative at hand isn't on there, to my knowledge--so it's safe where it is (for now).
Another topic exists which affects me greatly--even I can never quite decide just how much--has become extremely taboo, especially given the depths in which I could explore within said topic. This saddens me a little. Sometimes more than a little.
All of these restrictions put in place, in large part, by social networking.
If only folks like Mark Zuckerberg and Tom Anderson weren't so innovative, I wouldn't be in this predicament, right? Wrong. If only I were more innovative, I'd be able to more adeptly maneuver my way out of this mess, I reckon.
Curious thing about all this is--I have absolutely no qualms discussing anything in life--most people know this about me by now. It's just gotten to the point where I can't be 100% open about certain things, where it can be seen by all.
While I'm fully aware that I'm not a writer per se, I do enjoy writing, without a doubt. I often enjoy using it as an outlet to delve into personal topics--both my own, and those of others. It allows us all to open our eyes, our hearts, minds, and souls and let others in. I love it, I really do. But the concept of not being able to share whatever I want with whoever I want--however I want to do it--bugs me a little.
I'll probably work my way around it, in time. Just something on my mind in my quasi-triumphant return to Blogger, which I intend, as of now, to use as my future writing source. I'll try it out this time, while posting/sharing a link via--you guessed it, Facebook.
Ah, the wonderful world we live in...
Do the right thing,
Derrick
I like your sign-off :-) And as for having to be worried about content... pish posh. If someone chooses to read your writing, they are choosing to accept any and everything you have to say. They don't have to like it, but they don't have the right to complain, either. Anyone who knows you should know what they're getting into prior to reading your blogs :) Love ya, Champ.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Brit! Yeah, generally I agree. Just gotta be careful with the manner in which I discuss certain topics--if brought up at all--otherwise, I'd be opening the good old proverbial can of worms, you know? Not exactly an over-riding concern, I suppose. Just something that sucks. :)
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