The weirdest thing happened today. I got a random suggestion from an algorithm on a social media site that I’ve been populating all the time these last few weeks. (Because of where I am, and that’s what people use, and stuff, and yes, I got a suggestion.) About a ‘someone you may know.’ And I did. Oh, did I, ever. Click.
Six hours of reflection
The next six hours have been a bit of a whirr for me. Not only did we get the most refreshing rain that I’ve experienced in months, it is hot season here, in Cambodia, but, because I had to really sit and deal with the emotions that came up when I reviewed this person’s story, this person’s story of their story, and the way it seemed to me, from my angle. Knowing what I knew from a more personal series of conversations. About how that outward-angle view was just not really, um. The real thing.
I have been a big advocate for honesty and clarity and transparency without even realizing it, I think. I just naturally get described that way when people met me who’d read my blogs. Even when I turned my WordPress site for Kismuth into a real dot com one with this cool address (‘You must have parked that early!’) But yeah. I felt a little uneasy watching the person I used to know ten or is it twelve yers later now, making things online and… wondering… what it is that happened between point A and point B. I mean, not going to write it all out because that’s not what this blog is for, but the feelings that emerged were much like the over-written ‘look at me’ posts and emails and status thingies that are supposed to, what are they supposed to do? Make me feel informed? I don’t want to be informed. What I want is to read great stories, feel the feelings of good music when someone’s made it a priority to make art the focus and the making of art central, not the sharing of a personal life, or ‘my passion’, or whatnot. Just let the thing do the work for you. By being what it is, without apology.
Why is this too hard, though? I wonder about it, after the visit down memory lane to a place and a time when, yeah, I might have done the same as my former friend, and lie to the internet and lie, even more, to myself.
It happens.