Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I've never been very good at talking to people about things. I'm very secretive, and in the past this has got me into all sorts of misunderstandings and trouble. In the same way I've never used the internet as a confessional: I've always found it rather distasteful, like you're putting your emotions on display to see how many comments you get. Some of my friends have livejournals. Someone I know detailed at great length a break-up that she had, and got comments from all sorts of sympathetic people the world over, ready to hand over their cyber -pathies and dead-shot criticisms from behind the safety of their avatar. The LJ community freaks me out for its intensity and narrow-eyed cliquiness. I hate cliques.

I rather wish I could do that, the confessionals, the angry shrieks into space that are said exactly as you wish because you're typing rather than speaking and your brain is free to think as fast and hard as it can. But there's nothing to say, really. How can you? I made a point of keeping my MySpace as free of "Oh, today I went to the supermarket with karen, we had a great laugh, I got FUCKING HAMMERED!!!!!!" blogs as possible because they're a) quite boring to read and b) I don't want cyber friends, I want people I can network with and bounce off. Not literally. That would be odd. Although the guy sitting opposite me on the 149 yesterday could have volunteered. He was reading Eragon. I'm covering the premiere of that soon and have very little idea what's in it apart from a dragon, although, I quite like dragons so that's pretty much all I need to know.

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