out there

people have asked me, and i’ve asked myself why i put all this shit out there. the videos, the blogs, the facebook, the twitter stuff. i never really did a 5 year anniversary of the blog thing, but as i was walking home from the corner where the bus dropped me off tonight and i was thinking about the post i was going to write about all the people getting married and stuff, i thought … you know, it’s probably all about leaving pieces of me out there.

i’ve always had this fear of being forgotten. i remember when i would be getting broken up with (how’s that for some grammatic slaughter?), one of the things that would always hurt me so much is the idea that the guy would just forget me. that i’d be forever erased from their memory and that they’d have written me off forever. i can’t really explain that too much. i have a lot of things that happen in my mind that seem so weird and strange, and if you’ve read this blog for any time, i just have to assume you’ve gotten over it or come to understand or are just along for the ride.

and i don’t know. i don’t know what people think. i don’t know if i’m all that forgettable or what. *i* am the one who tends to have the ‘sober blackout’ and forget everything. maybe it’s a matter of transference and i think that everyone else does what i inevitably do, which is just lose memories. lose days and months and years. i don’t know where it all goes. i can’t forget names and faces, but the memories just fade. i have snapshots of this or that, but specifics start to disappear.

but, i think maybe i put this stuff out there so that someone remembers, even if it’s awful. sometimes, albeit rarely, i’ll go back and look at a blog entry here and there and think, ‘oh yeah. that. or wow. that was hard. or i can’t believe i’m still talking about that.’ and it’s something. it’s a piece of me that isn’t forgotten. it’s somewhat concrete. it’s virtual pen to virtual paper.

maybe it’s all a colossal waste of time. maybe it’s all a giant mistake. maybe it’s all just for vanity. maybe it’s just all a series of neurotic exercises. maybe it’s some of all of the above. i don’t know.

but i think somewhere there’s a part of me that just doesn’t want to be forgotten.

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