poo.

i haven't written in nearly a month and i'm experiencing pangs of guilt. a logical assumption might be that i'm feeling uninspired or UNDERwhelmed. it's the opposite, however. the last month i've been going through some heavy shit. my head's been a veritable...(what's the cliched term i'm searching for here...uh.. ) hurricane of emotions. ok that wasn't it - that was quite generic, really - but essentially, i've been seriously overwhelmed with all the thoughts and feelings that generally induce the type of written vomit i like to call "journal writing." the things that equate substance.

wow. i'm really creating some profound images here, aren't i? so much for coming back with a bang...

so yeah. i'm already reneging on my little "promise" to be candid and forthright with this whole thing. a lot of what i REALLY want to write i have omitted for fear that my "audience" won't understand (or appreciate, empathize with, sympathize for, etc) me or the subject matter. and of course, some of the things i want to express to people, i don't feel i have the strength to say in person. that said, then, i can't write it here and take the risk that they might actually read this. wouldn't be too tactful on my part.

then again, it might be a little ambitious of me to assume i even have "an audience." god, i hate that idea. that word. i didn't want it to be this way. i didn't want to censor anything or write for anyone. i just wanted to be myself, to feel naked, for the very reason that i don't feel i can be so in the unwritten world; now i'm not doing that. so, what is my purpose here?