Anonymous Shmanonymous

Okay, my lovelies. No more comments. I'm shuttin' down the option. May bring it back, but it's getting kind of creepy. I'm happy if people I don't know read the thing, but if you think I'm a "bore and a trial", then quit reading. I had to have a little think about why I was writing this thing, and, to be perfectly honest, it's for me, not you. I don't need strangers making assumptions about what kind of person I am after reading only this. Well, I don't need them telling me what their guesses are, anyways. Read it, don't read it, complain to your friends, whatever. If you know me, send me emails. If you know me and can't tell me something without it being anonymous, then we are not close. Because if you were close to me, in which case your opinion would carry weight with me, you would know that these are the kinds of comments I can brook from people that love me, and you should have the balls to talk to me in person.

Of course I don't have a relationship because I'm too self involved, it's completely a choice at this point in my life to be self involved. I have spent an enormous amount of time and energy in my life trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be and in order to pursue what I love, I have had to pull back a bit. My generous heart still beats, but I no longer give a shit whether random people like me, so I can focus on what I need.

God, it's so weird that I feel I have to defend myself against the ideas of strangers. I feel oddly paranoid wondering who wrote the "Anonymous" comment, who is so proud that they stirred up my anger bees. (As if they needed stirring. As if I am not in constant self examination mode, prioritizing and reprioritizing which of my flaws needs to be addressed.) It's made me try to figure out who it was, trying to imagine who I know who has perfect spelling and grammar, who writes like that. Then I feel sick, because it has made me question people I love. And this, in itself, was enough to make me decide I no longer want the comments.

My mother says I am too sensitive for this planet, which is probably true. I hear, see, feel everything, roll every sensation and thought and experience around in my body and my brain until I have examined every aspect, wondered what the lesson is, studying the lesson, trying to learn the lesson. There is hardly a moment when my brain isn't working, working, churning.

Of course, the stupid comments have made me think about myself, wonder if I know myself at all, and I hate that, because I have spent so long getting to the meat of me, and I think I know some pretty important things about myself. The thing is, if I'm going to have even a slightly public life, I'm going to have to get used to people thinking they know things about me even when they don't. People making assumptions about my whole self with only a sliver of the information.

You know, the two most important reasons I started this thing were so that I would write consistently without feeling the pressure of writing that I place on myself, and so people would know where my shows were happening. I'm feeling that to feel as free as I have to write what I want, I gotta do it in a bit of a bubble. It was never meant to be a conversation about me, I have enough of those, because, of course, being as self involved as I am, I love to talk about me. Which is a new trait. So, in order to keep nurturing the safety I was feeling in making my insides come out, again, no commenty. (In case you missed it the first three times I said it.)

God, this whole thing got under my skin. I need to go for a good long walk. I am so annoyed with myself for devoting any time and energy to this.

Okay, loved ones, it's less convenient to email, but have at 'er. If anyone I don't know feels compelled to comment, they can start their own blog, or forum, or whatever.

Big love,


I wonder...can you be a "bore and a trial" and "flawed, interesting and engaging"? I guess so, since apparently that's what one person thinks of me. You know, after reading the blog. (Why on earth you would keep reading when you found someone whiny, or a bore, or a trial...I have no idea).

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