It's easy to keep a public blog private. And I dont have to try.
Why is it that keeping myself private is not quite as easy.
A friend of mine - a real friend of mine - once told me I trust people with details that are beautifully disguised as the truth. I love incomplete truths. Playing on peoples emotions and manipulating their behaviors is part of my empirical and not-so-serious-but-I-kind-of-mean-it study of human relations.
The TV show Dexter claims that it is very hard to know people. When we introduce ourselves to someone all they know about us is what they see (under the whole O'Brien perspective of the world that "truth" is relative and for the most part in the eye of the beholder) and what we choose to show them. How then does one truly know anyone?
For me it is simple. I use boxes. PI have foudn that all people can be defined by a few trademark behavior that are more cyclical than history is. And people think I'm good at reading them. It's too easy because it might be the hollywood mentality or the psychology behind books that attempt at defining the all important "RELATIONSHIP" as this mystical bit of pseudo-science that only the author can demistify. I'm telling them the counterpart to "Skinny Bitch" or "he's just not that into you". Of course I come across as sagely and wise.
This suits me.
The truth? I often wonder how, despite the many faces I feel like I can wear people invariably seem to have the same high opinion of me. I feel like a poser in a world where everyone sees me as genuine. This prompts em to wonder: is the poser simply the real me? Is the poser someone candid and honest? Or have I just been consumed and what I though was my full mind is only one side of the coin and I'm equally as blind to the other side as other people are?
I'm terribly self-aware. This makes lying to myself an art form. And I'm good but it's difficult to run from the truth sitting in your own head. I've heard denial is powerful. I think I'm stronger.
So here's to you, dear diary.
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