This is what results when I try to salvage an entry that's going nowhere [Sunday, Feb. 20, 2005, 1:08 pm]
I really hope that my vacation week will end up being more productive than my vacation weekend has been. I could go somewhere today, maybe. I could rent a movie, or maybe see "The Phantom of the Opera." That's really the only movie playing around here that looks half-interesting to me. (I watched an older version of it once at a friend's house, and thought it was pretty good. Apparently there have been quite a few made.)
Or I could just sit on my butt in front of my computer, which is more likely what I'll end up doing half the time.
Sometimes I get on here and feel as if I have nothing to say. That isn't true - I always have plenty to say. It's just that sometimes I don't feel like saying it. Or else I wonder too much about how it'll come across, or if it's really wise to say it at all. And of course, I generally try to avoid boring the reader. Off to a great start, aren't I?
I'm sure that every writer, even the most gifted and articulate, occasionally sits back and wonders, "Okay, so - why do people read this stuff anyway? And why do I even write this stuff, for that matter?"
Do I write for myself, or for the reader? Most people see diaries as things that are written for their own benefit and no one else's. I do write for my own benefit, but then, if that's all there was to it I wouldn't be putting my diary on the internet now, would I?
But then, sometimes I feel more like a columnist than a diaryist, thinking, "What should I write about today? What would interest people and what wouldn't?" I'm not saying I exaggerate, but I don't always include mundane details unless there's a reason to (usually involving humor.)
We all do that, of course. Everything we write in our diaries is selective, because we know people will be reading it. Even those who do nothing but day-log have choices to make about what they say, although they may not think about it as much.
Maybe the things we leave out of our writing say as much about us as the things we choose to include. The only difference is that the readers don't know what's been left out. It adds to the mystery, doesn't it? It's funny how every reader can create a different mental picture of what a writer is really like in person.
"Well, I thought my razor was dull until I heard his speech."
Vitality - Tuesday, Aug. 11, 2009