Well, I did it.
Aug. 7th, 2004 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyburgI just went through the friends list and checked to see when the last post was.
In a lot of cases, journals who had even added me back didn't have a single entry. *sighs*
Delete, delete, delete.
Sometimes, you have to treat people like wild animals. No, not to capture them and put them in cages, but to respect their right to behave just as they feel the need to.
I could take it personally. They could take it personally. In the end, what a waste.
Nobody ever meant me harm. Believe me, I'd know. It takes more effort.
You have to earn the trust of a wild animal. And in some cases, you won't ever make it.
Delete, delete, delete.
Yes, I've trimmed the list. Of folks who have closed me off, or stopped journalling - I'll never know for sure, and if they wanted to shut me out - it's their right. Without actually confronting me, sure. It's their right.
I am not everyone's slice of apple pie.
And while I am okay with that - really, it's best I am, I don't have a choice - there is a part that wonders just what it was, if it was something...or nothing?
With these deletions, it's nothing. Dead air. I have no idea and likely never will know.
Once, a person spoke to me, and I wanted to listen. I listened long after the story was told - and yeah, I feel a little foolish.
Such is my life. *grins a bit* Always late to the party, that's me.
And always asking for it, too. There's a part of me that always wants to befriend, to listen, to understand. My own headspace is too narrow, too confining - and I've said as much. A room full of people just like me is boring - and at times, scary. That's the writer, the journalist - always curious, always nosing about for a good story.
And right now, a little lonely too. A life is a life is a life - in a number of journals, the book has now been closed and put on shelf. *slaps self* Aw, get over it.
Timid wild animals. Why not think of them that way....
In a lot of cases, journals who had even added me back didn't have a single entry. *sighs*
Delete, delete, delete.
Sometimes, you have to treat people like wild animals. No, not to capture them and put them in cages, but to respect their right to behave just as they feel the need to.
I could take it personally. They could take it personally. In the end, what a waste.
Nobody ever meant me harm. Believe me, I'd know. It takes more effort.
You have to earn the trust of a wild animal. And in some cases, you won't ever make it.
Delete, delete, delete.
Yes, I've trimmed the list. Of folks who have closed me off, or stopped journalling - I'll never know for sure, and if they wanted to shut me out - it's their right. Without actually confronting me, sure. It's their right.
I am not everyone's slice of apple pie.
And while I am okay with that - really, it's best I am, I don't have a choice - there is a part that wonders just what it was, if it was something...or nothing?
With these deletions, it's nothing. Dead air. I have no idea and likely never will know.
Once, a person spoke to me, and I wanted to listen. I listened long after the story was told - and yeah, I feel a little foolish.
Such is my life. *grins a bit* Always late to the party, that's me.
And always asking for it, too. There's a part of me that always wants to befriend, to listen, to understand. My own headspace is too narrow, too confining - and I've said as much. A room full of people just like me is boring - and at times, scary. That's the writer, the journalist - always curious, always nosing about for a good story.
And right now, a little lonely too. A life is a life is a life - in a number of journals, the book has now been closed and put on shelf. *slaps self* Aw, get over it.
Timid wild animals. Why not think of them that way....
