Under a microscope…



Under a microscope…

I know there are people reading my blog who, if the truth be told, I really wished didn’t. (don’t worry D, it’s not you.)

And, I know there are harmless lurkers… I can spot you every now and then.

But, there are also stalkers. People hanging around to, I don’t know, find out stuff I would rather they didn’t.

That is all my fault. I was under the mistaken impression that what I write here, is mine and mine alone. That I am free to be as free with my thoughts as I want. But, the Internet being what it is, that is a false sense of security.

But the thing is, this is my PERSONAL blog. My place to record what is going on in my life, the good things, the not so good things, the rants and raves, the thanks and the oh shits. A place where I can drop the f-bomb at will, without so much as a raised eyebrow. Where I can get out my pent up frustrations and not take it out on my peeps. Kinda of my do-it-yourself therapy.

Still, there is that nagging little itch, that freakish feeling that someone is watching that takes some of the fun out of it. That needling awareness that I should be reserved, if only a smidge, with what I write here. That my rants can’t be as full-voiced as I would like, I can’t let loose with that cathartic, primal scream that would shatter windows and cleanse the soul.

There is the possibility of going to another site, but then I would have to start all over. I’ve been doing this for two years, it would be tough to do that again. I could change names and move to another address, but there’s a lot of baggage around here. Who’s with me?! Anyone got a truck I could borrow some weekend?

I know other bloggers who moved, and their stalkers followed them. Not good. If I did change entirely, to disappear, reincarnating IMSO by another name, could these shadow people follow me too? Could I, knowing now what I wished I had known then, remain anonymous?

I may eventually decide to go private, to only let a select few into my personal space. To always know exactly who has access to my words. If that is my final destination, when I close that outside door, when/if I do create that inner sanctum… then all hell is going to break loose.

Then again, I could just ignore the haters. Go about my business in blissful abandon. Saying what I want, how I want, without regard for the spiteful wraiths hiding in the shadows. If they don’t like what they see, disagree with my words, are irked by the truths they want to turn a blind eye to, then they can just leave… this isn’t about them anyway.

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