Even after three years, it’s still strange when people e‑mail me, people I’ve never met before who mention my experiences and quote the words I’ve written. When they share a bit of their lives in return, perhaps from the guilt of finding themselves the unassuming and unabashed voyeur, it never ceases to be interesting. They’ll tell me of their pot smoking habits, recommend music that’s touched them in some way, talk about the abuse they suffered from their parents, share the kinky habits that are normally reserved for those with a physical familiarity.
It’s strange because even with these details, I really know nothing about these people, while they know some of the most intimate things about me, stuff that I hide from others in everyday life.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I’d rather not find out.
what does this mean?
maybe He’s not looking for an exchange of “gory details” maybe He just wants to liberate His own thoughts and not have to take on the burden of everyone elses’?
I know what you mean. I think it’s just human nature to try and take something from ourselves and give to others, even if it makes no sense, or is for the wrong reasons (as in making themselves feel better) it’s the whole “maybe i can help this person” ideal.
Thats just my two cents.
Not exactly.
There’s nothing wrong with the e‑mail correspondences, but I realized that the more I started to learn about these mystery people, the more I kept them in mind when I was writing.
This means that I was beginning to consider an audience, when the purpose of this site was to be able to write only for myself, without bias, and to hold nothing back. To do this, I have to forget that anyone else may be reading. I’d just rather not know.
I enjoy the interpretations though. That’s why I used the title “Equivocality”.