Should be sleeping, but for some reason I’m too wired. Not sure why, but I’m not complaining. I just sat down in front of the computer twenty minutes ago, opened up a story I’ve been wanting to complete, and finished it. Now that I think about it, this probably isn’t going to help make me sleepy. I’m proud to admit that nothing exhilarates me more that writing a story — especially when I type the word “END.” It’s a sort of high that, sadly, blogging gives me very rarely these days.
It’s been eating at me for some time now. My particular style of blogging is, as Nate puts it, more narrative than anything. I recount certain events, sometimes in a humorous fashion, sometimes not. This isn’t necessarily a bad style — it’s just one I’m getting bored with. I’m a bit of an anachronism when it comes to blogging. Most of the stuff I write about is rather genial in nature; I don’t rant and rave, certainly not to the extent that I used to on my deadjournal. But everyone who knows me in real life knows that I’m sort of a mean person. A bit of an asshole. Sure, I’m a pretty nice guy — I’ll just make fun of and be a dick towards you.
I’m fucking charming, truth be told.
But in my online persona I’d love to be more true to self: be a lot meaner, put the “rant” back in ignorant…
…but…
This leads me to my next point: self-censorship.
I censor myself a whole lot on JBdN, much more than I like to admit. When I’m pissed off or annoyed with something or someone, I tend to not write too much about it, because the chance is that the relevant person(s) might read about it and get upset. Yet it’s in my nature to bottle so many things up, usually without ever talking to someone who’s upset me, so would writing about it be cathartic? I tend to think so, but then is a public forum really appropriate? I’ve written things here before — very small things, mentioned off hand — and had them come back and bite me in the ass in real life. Something along this vein recently happened, which has served to hammer this point home. Let me be clear: I don’t regret writing what I did, but I do regret the ensuing downturn. It does certainly offer food for thought.
Maybe I’ll put it to you, gentle reader, my fellow unwashed masses. Should I be more open in my writing? Let my anger, if it’s there, be more visible? Throw the self-censorship out the window and just write about whatever the fuck I want, consequences be damned? Even if I did, JBdN isn’t going to turn into the Altar of Bitching (that i’ll leave to Nate). Means I might just offer up the occasional rant and, in general, be a little more honest about things happening in my life. Before you answer, bear in mind that one day you (yes, I’m talking to you) might piss me off, and I might heatedly write about it. You, of course, would be allowed to rebut my words in the comments without worry of editorial oversight — but the point is, would you want our hypothetical dirty laundry to be aired for all to see?
I’m not sure what I’ll wind up doing. I could very well read this entry tomorrow, roll my eyes, say, “Jesus Fucking Christ, could I be any more of a girl about this crap?” and then continue on, business as usual. Then there is another possible option. Nate and I were talking Thursday, and the idea of creating a new, private blog was mentioned. I freely admit the idea held some considerable appeal. But I like my blog here, and I don’t want to give up on it.
Well, I’ve whaled on this dead horse enough for one night. I think I’m going to go read for a bit and, maybe, sleep.
JAB
You talk about being a girl as though it were a bad thing.
Blog about whatever the hell you want. I do.
Obviously, we already discussed this at length on Thursday, but really, whether you end up with a “good” blog and an “evil” blog or if you just throw caution to the wind and say what you want to on this blog, you will probably unbottle a lot more anger and bitterness. And yes, I know that small things tend to come back and bite you in the ass – Trevor, for example – but shit, if people take one fucking sentence the wrong way, then that is not the kind of person you should be hanging out with in the first place. Fuck knows that if they take your writing the wrong way then they won’t make it past the first month talking to you. Fuck ‘em.
You know if you do post the all consuming Josh, we the people could come across a scary, happy, less angry Josh Bales. That might actually be a disservice…
I’ll give you the psychological answer to everything: “It depends.”
If you are worried about negative consequences coming from your friends about the things you write about them, I’d say don’t self-censor. Do not reinforce their insecurity about what others think of them. Tell it as it is.
If you are worried about negative consequences from potential employers, then I’d filter some of your thoughts before they are posted in your blog. I always have the narcissistic and grandiose thought that what if someone really important read my blog? They could find offense in my comments about the pope or anal stimulation, which in turn could prevent a future job offering.
Irrational? Yes, but I do not want to take chances with my professional career (hence, my pseudonymn).
So, weigh your censoring options and I’d advise to air on the side of caution with your career and not your friends. We can handle the abuse.
Hello friends!
Mr Bales, don’t play into the insecurities of your friends. I mean, didn’t you tell your friend Nate to go fuck himself Thursday? That’s a step in the right direction! While he can take verbal abuse like a concrete wall, some of your other friends are probably not so sturdy. Think of it like this: After a while, all you’ll have left are friends who can take honest opinions, and how can you go wrong with that? Come on. I review and carfully articulate opinions of your entries without a shred of censorship. Maybe a little sugarcoating, but I don’t beat around the bush too much. A scary, less happy, angry Josh Bales is what this country NEEDS!
America still needs your help!
-Roger Corknut, young go-getter and editor for Trevorediting.com, a subsidiary of Trevorcorp, where “Oranges are like the best food there is.”
Um, also you spelled “whaled” wrong. If you mean that you’re beating a dead horse, then technically you’re “wailing” on it. Yeah.