Some meditations.
Is it wrong to desperately want to feel private?
…after living so much of my life online over the past several years, exposing truths and utter frailities, dorkitude, frustrating episodes, moments of whimsy, and disclosures and confessions?
I’ve been feeling vulnerable lately. Not from you, or you, or you lurker. Perhaps it’s you.
Yes. That’s it. That’s exactly it.
It’s you who are that one person that makes me feel beyond uncomfortable.
Both with myself and with the knowledge that you exist out there.
I want to disfigure myself so that I could walk past you without being recognized.
I tremble with the possibility that we might be more similar than different.
It’s you that I hate. And I hate to feel exposed to you.
I don’t want you to know anything about me. You haven’t earned that right.
And what I know of you, I’m horrified by. Completely.
Perhaps there’s more to you than what little I know.
I don’t care to know more.
Really.
But then again.
Do you really exist?
Or are you just a phantom. I still can’t be sure based on the talking shadows against the cave wall. Have I had this discussion for so long that I can no longer tell if I’m warm or cold?
Are you puzzled?
Good.
Perhaps then you’ll become bored and leave me be.
We, the other shadows and I, would much prefer it.
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