E tenebras, lux dormiens

I've fixed some broken links that were causing people to travel to the lands of the 404.

I've also hidden with the comment tags some things from my earliest posts, so you won't see them at all. This is good for keeping from alienating new visitors (I hope).

I'm conflicted about all this, though. I simultaneously want to be famous, but want also to have some privacy. It is a paradox, I know. I want to be able to express the innermost part of myself to the world, but I don't want it to be brought up by people who read this blog and contact me about it. That doesn't mean, however, I don't want to talk about it. I do would like people to talk to me about what I've posted.

I suppose I would prefer a give/take relationship. Here I am revealing what is personal to me, but if some stranger simply show up and say, "I've read everything in your blog, and I know everything about you." Then, I feel violated. What do you know about me that I don't know about myself? After all, I very rarely read what I've posted, so I know that they've been posted when I'm at the "posting zone," a time when I feel the most desire to express something inside my head.

That means that I don't remember what I've written, even if I vaguely remember that I have posted something about it before.

If I have a blog that tells something about myself. I'd prefer that someone reading this also have his or her own blog that I can read, that reveals parts of themselves, whether personal or impersonal.

Otherwise, it is embarrassing.

This doesn't mean that I'll stop posting. As yet I do not know how to separate the private from the public, to post only links to other places, but nothing of myself. This means that in this journal, I'll have little bits of everything, some elements of a true blog (with links and all), and a simple journal for the publishing of my mind.

I suppose I should carry on.

The greatest problem is that I have not given the link to this site, https://luminus529.tripod.com/weblog, to any of my friends or family. As such, I receive no validations that my opinions are okay, no support that my feelings are legitimate, no words that make me feel a little less alone.

I am guessing that I don't feel comfortable letting people know that I keep a blog because I have never, under any circumstances, revealed myself to other people. I have kept myself in silence for so long that my hands and mouth can barely speak before an audience without croaking, without hurrying, without the sweet rhythms that drive charismatic oration.

I am still naive and arrogant, prideful and shy. I am an introspective introvert. I believe I think things to oblivion.

I still remember that moment when an English teacher said to another student who was dressed in Goth, "Do you feel like you're part of the existentialist belief?" I wished, and still wish, sincerely to have heard what she said in response to.

I believe that I have been in the existentialist category. I don't know, I haven't spoken with any existentialist, nor any other person who study philosophy, to see if my ideas follow the thoughts of existentialism.

I wish, also, that I could have perked up and raised my hand and say, "I am one of the existentialist/absurdist that believe in the meaninglessness of the world."

If I had, if I had interpreters, if I knew ASL, if, if, if, I would have been a smarter, more well-rounded person, fully enjoying the multi-splendored life. I wished then that I had the bravery to say things I would like to say, and I wish now that I could say the things I want to say.

This is my letter to the future that never lets me know.

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