I don’t take breaks from social media very often, and when I do it is mostly because I have a huge upset in me that I need to process and I don’t particularly want to do that in front of my closest friends and chosen family. I am well aware that they, you, will help me with everything that I need help with because you have a thousand times before and I promise you will a thousand times after this.
I am reevaluating my presence on social media completely. Why do I need to be on SO many things? I’m on Mastodon for fuck’s sake, NO ONE is on Mastodon. Twitter and Facebook, MeWe and Tumblr, LiveJournal (yes, that one) and Discord. Why do I need to have that many people have access to the things I am thinking and feeling? I know I am a Stage 24 clinger but I don’t need that many people knowing what the fuck is going on, and not going on, in my head, do I? Do I really need to tell people how sad I am every day? How much that or this hurts? How much I miss Her? Does EVERYONE need to know EVERYTHING?
No, they don’t…….I do though.
I need to tell things, whether it is editorialized things like this or a fantasy of dark faerie queen.
It’s like Rilke says, “If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing . . . then you are a writer.”
I can’t remember the last time I woke up not wanting to write, I don’t know if I ever have done such a thing since I found the notebook by the dumpster at some no-name motel in Sylmar, California almost 35 years ago and just started writing how much I hated her and how bad it hurt.
I wrote then as I write now, and the pain goes away, even for a few minutes, maybe an hour. I write a story and I can make others happy. I write a book, maybe I will never feel the pain again?
See, you did help me, you do. Every time you read something of mine, you help. Every time you like it, or even casually mention it, that pain just ebbs a bit, not even as much as a moment, but it is there and I will love all of you forever for it.
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