Curiousities and Revocations

I'm caught with the sensation midway between absolutely delighted and terribly somber, if there is such a locale. I'm discovering I am a rather unusual type of person. Unusual, in this sense, meaning atypical and sometimes contradictory.

Atypically:
Doesn't buy stuff, including food, on a regular basis. Sometimes I have to force myself to eat if the opportunity doesn't present itself.
Doesn't watch television.
Loves specific new technology (fast processing Mac's, internet, digital cameras, iPods)
Hates specific new technology (cell phones, Palm Pilots and the like, iPods)
Can justify all of my own behaviour, but can also easily be made to feel guilt over the same justified behaviour.
Loves to argue.
Loves to help.
Doesn't like glory. (Though loved the movie)
Loves victory.
Hates competition.
Is cheap with herself, but generous with her friends.
Would rather live in her head quite often.
Is not afraid of people.
Absolutely trusts her gut.
Is attracted to minds, rather than bodies; character, rather than money.
Knows when to shut up.

When I first started posting, back in the summer, I was a very harsh critic of myself. Usually the standard process went like this:
Write out what I'm thinking.
Edit it.
Adjust the time for posting.
Re-edit it.
Readjust the time.
Shudder and wince while pressing the "Publish now" button, all the while saying, "This is complete shit."

The only thing I don't do anymore is the "This is complete shit" portion.

I don't get a lot of comments on my posts. I get some, and I'm grateful for those comments. All of them. Good or bad, it really doesn't matter. I value opinion. I consider everything. I don't agree with everything. That's what makes it helpful when I ignite that little facet in me that loves to argue.

Last night I got a comment on my preceding post. It was posted by Anonymous. Basically, it started off accusing me of being too vague in my description of the events of a trip to Chicago involving fellow Bloggers. It then launched into being too non-specific, bogus, pretentious and thus infuriating to read.

At the time I was talking to my friend Kissy on the phone. Laughing, I read it aloud to her. I was not offended by the comment. As I said, I value opinion. What I do, in general, is actively listen. Quite often when I'm engaged in conversation I hear everything that is said, but believe maybe 60% of the content. It's not that I'm a pessimist or that I'm paranoid. I just don't think people are very honest with themselves. "I'm fine", say, rarely means just that. I do the same with other's writing.

Subtext.
What do you really mean under all of that?

Anonymous had sent me an email after writing the comment. I suspect he created an anonymous Hotmail account specifically for his correspondence.

Dear Comrade,

I need to make an apology to you.

A few minutes ago, I anonymously posted the first comment on your most recent blog entry. I attacked it for being bogus, pretentious and infuriating to read.

I had no business making the comment I made. It's your blog and your life and the way you wish to express yourself is your own business, not mine. I'm not even a regular reader of your blog (or of blogs in general) and I don't know what compelled me to comment in such a hostile way. In fact, on top of that, by doing so I have made myself a total hypocrite (it's a long story that's not worth detailing).

I humbly request that you delete my comment from your blog as soon as humanly possible. While I realize that I cannot erase the comment I made from your memory, I don't think the shame center in my heart will allow me to sleep well knowing that I threw a virulent chunk of negativity into your world and into the world of your readership that will stay up there forever for many to read.

The internet is a strange phenomenon. It can bring out the very best in people and it can bring out the very worst in people. Tonight, it brought out the worst in me and I am embarassed and ashamed of myself. I pray that you can accept my apology and that you will delete my comment.

Sincerely,

Someone You Don't Know

So, you see, I had to delete his comment. I believe too much in humanity. I believe too much in lessons. I believe too much in beauty not to have granted this poor creature, who felt genuine remorse, this earnest wish.

But, I disagree, young Someone I Don't Know. I think you should begin your own blog (Life) and document exactly what it is you don't think is worth detailing. The thing is, I suspect it is. And I would love to get to know you. You seem to have a lovely depth of character. And I suspect you'd be a hell of a writer.

I received young Jessica's comment this morning. Comment(s) rather. Understand I don't know Jessica.
"I'll just say what everyone else is thinking...wait, so what happened between you three?
I'll just say what everyone else is thinking....what happened between the three of you?"

Two comments. Both alike in inquiry. In fair Blogland, where we lay our scene.

It made me think.

Boys and girls, gather 'round! It's time for question/ answer period!

Who chooses:
To fight for what he/she believes in?
To love, to the best of one's ability?
To say anything that pops into one's head?
To act? Not thinking about the consequences, just behaving in a fashion that feels right?

I do.

Who chooses:
To sit in front of the television and watch Reality unfold?
To not say anything in fear of potentially offending someone?
To do nothing because it doesn't seem "correct" or "proper" or "appropriate"?
To keep talking about the same thing, often making the same plans, but doing nothing to further them?
To stay stuck... in the same place; life repeating itself day after day after day?

I stomp my feet and vehemently refused.

I'm thinking of George Michael's old band, Wham, right now. They had a T-shirt, back in the 80's that said, in big, bold lettering:

CHOOSE
LIFE

I don't think he was talking about Life vs. Death. I think he was talking about Living. Living fully.

To those who were brave enough to ask, or curious enough anyway, I thank you for the obvious interest in my life. Though perhaps too subtly, one should have gleaned by my last post that I'm not going to disclose anymore information than I have. Aside from it not being any of your business, it simply wasn't the point.

The point was none us sat placidly watching strangers lives unfurl. We didn't stay tuned next week for the epic conclusion. We didn't identify with this character or that. We were our own characters. At every point, there were choices to be made. Some were great choices, some were not so great. But that's like Life, isn't it?

My concern is the overriding wanton need for result. The conclusion. The end of Act III. The curtain's close. The Final Countdown (God, I love that song). As a fictional story concept, the need for closure is quite endearing and understandable. But as for individual lives, the need to know seems rather voyeuristic to me.

I suppose what I'm trying to say, or rather pose to you, whoever you are, is: What is it about your life that is lacking enough drama or excitement or interest that the result of my trip is fascinating enough for you to want to know about my actions? My choices.

Allow me to beg this time:

Please, turn off your televisions.
Please, turn off your phones.
Please, stay in a conversation fully.
Please, stay in the moment fully.
If your head is louder than the person across from you, or next to you, please go home.
Please choose to say "yes" more often than "no".
Because even if it's "not right", and you have to ask yourself whether it's fully your own conclusion, or whether someone along the way has told you so, you have an opportunity to gain massive amounts of insight by doing, not just thinking about it.

Live your own Life.
Fall down.
Document what is necessary.
Learn as much as you can about yourself.
It is a lifelong process.
One that is worth living.