If you’re reading this, you are one of hundreds of followers possibly the best seventeen people in the world. You know that I freely share my skepticism observations of the bullshit nonsense I read in the news. Who did Petraeus piss off? What a shitstorm!
Blogs I follow are creative, artistic, and as far as can tell, written by decent, thoughtful people who are similar to me in some way – foodies, thinkers, photo nuts, writerly, comic geniuses, etc. As I’ve said before, I save the venting and ranting for my own blog, commenting elsewhere only if I believe I have something worthwhile to add to the conversation or if I’m trying to be funny or supportive. Recently, in a moment of weakness, I made a freakishly long comment on a well-written post. I was in total agreement with the post, but my comment kinda went off the rails (just a bit) and ever since then I find myself scrubbing my comments.
Just this morning I started to comment on a terrific post about how budget travel advice often misses an important component; the traveler’s actual enjoyment of the experience. I wanted to say, I wonder how enjoyable Rachel Ray would have found that $40 dollar a day food budget if every other part of her trip had not been comped. Alas I decided that the exceptional writing of that post deserved more than my smart-ass remark. So, instead of hitting “post comment,” yeah, I deleted it.
The same thing happened on another post. I wanted to comment that Black Friday isn’t my thing. Never has been, never will be. I wrote that and some other stuff, but ultimately deleted my comment, thinking to myself, nobody cares if it repulses you to see snatching, clawing, hoarding freaks who spend money they don’t have on shit they don’t need so they can impress people who couldn’t care less about them. People who then turn around and donate their worn out, used up crap to charity so they can feel better about their materialistic selves. It seems charities don’t want our used crap, only our cash.
Hey charities, people don’t have cash!!!! They only have used crap!!!!
Then, of course, ever wanting to lend credence to just how damaging that bitch the self-talk can be, I chimed in with a two-bit comment on Fear No Weebles, but completely censored what I really wanted to say. It surely would have been loaded with expletives. We all have things that set us off. Users. Posers. Defeatist voices from our past. Stupid rules, ridiculous mandates, know-it-all wise asses who try to tell us what we should and shouldn’t do. “Don’t go to bed angry.” “Don’t drive angry.” “Don’t write angry.”
Just what the hell are you supposed to do when you’re angry? Count to ten? Scream into a pillow? Google anger management techniques? Sometimes getting angry burns off the crap in our heads so we can think clearly.
I want to say to hell with passive-aggressive behavior. If you’re gonna be aggressive, BE aggressive!!! (yeah, I censored out the F King) I want to say we need, not a recitation of the mundane, but a venting of the rage. If you say that, you’re an anarchist, a heretic, a freakin’ lunatic in need of serious help.
Next time there is a battle royale between my gravitar speaking in emoticon and me speaking in my own voice, I’m going to just go scream into a pillow!