I don't know how many viewers of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" there are here, but I have a certain scene from a particular episode stuck in my head at the moment. This was the show that they wouldn't air, at least not at first, because it wasn't quite PC after the Columbine shootings. Blah Blah Blah.
Anyway, part of the plot depicts how Buffy obtains the ability to hear other people's thoughts and emotions. These voices in her head become so loud and inescapable that she begins to think she's going crazy. The angst and the turmoil are too much for her to take and, as things reach a climax, the camera envelops her - a frenzied spinning circle of tortured voices, crying, screaming, and laughing all lashing out in her head at once - while she covers her ears to try to make it stop.
Have you ever wondered why you take notice a bit more when you feel physically sick than you do when you feel physically great? Somehow, the posts I've been reading here for the past week or so, (off and on my "friends" list) have been making me very uncomfortable. People are far too willing to air their dirty laundry (myself included) and reveal to the world the intimate details of thier private lives. I'm noticing that I feel better when I don't read LJ so much.
We are becoming our own Big Brother. People claim that they cherish their privacy, yet they are willing to spend hours writing about what occurs behind closed doors in painstaking detail. Drug addiciton is bad, but then so is the addiction to sitting in front of a keyboard, robotically typing out every minute thing that happened in one's bed the night before. The pull of obligation to spill it all. Nothing sacred. Nothing owned. Everything given away. It's frightening, really. People say they are against having security cameras in certain places, yet they are more than happy to give it all up in print, which is sometimes more vivid through another person's imagination than it would be on a TV screen or a monitor.
It all hit home last night when I got an unsolicited email from someone who did not know me, but who decided to involve me in his broken marriage by writing a sort of "response letter" to his wife's other man, warning him against her and revealing the sort of details about her that didn't need to be publicly broadcasted. Why should I care about a person's flaws and their hang-ups about them? Why would I want to delve in to someone's life and walk around knowing the sordid details of their affairs and their indiscretions? I wouldn't. I don't.
Another new leaf. Time for change. No apologies or validations. Just reasons, explanations, and progress.
Anyway, part of the plot depicts how Buffy obtains the ability to hear other people's thoughts and emotions. These voices in her head become so loud and inescapable that she begins to think she's going crazy. The angst and the turmoil are too much for her to take and, as things reach a climax, the camera envelops her - a frenzied spinning circle of tortured voices, crying, screaming, and laughing all lashing out in her head at once - while she covers her ears to try to make it stop.
Have you ever wondered why you take notice a bit more when you feel physically sick than you do when you feel physically great? Somehow, the posts I've been reading here for the past week or so, (off and on my "friends" list) have been making me very uncomfortable. People are far too willing to air their dirty laundry (myself included) and reveal to the world the intimate details of thier private lives. I'm noticing that I feel better when I don't read LJ so much.
We are becoming our own Big Brother. People claim that they cherish their privacy, yet they are willing to spend hours writing about what occurs behind closed doors in painstaking detail. Drug addiciton is bad, but then so is the addiction to sitting in front of a keyboard, robotically typing out every minute thing that happened in one's bed the night before. The pull of obligation to spill it all. Nothing sacred. Nothing owned. Everything given away. It's frightening, really. People say they are against having security cameras in certain places, yet they are more than happy to give it all up in print, which is sometimes more vivid through another person's imagination than it would be on a TV screen or a monitor.
It all hit home last night when I got an unsolicited email from someone who did not know me, but who decided to involve me in his broken marriage by writing a sort of "response letter" to his wife's other man, warning him against her and revealing the sort of details about her that didn't need to be publicly broadcasted. Why should I care about a person's flaws and their hang-ups about them? Why would I want to delve in to someone's life and walk around knowing the sordid details of their affairs and their indiscretions? I wouldn't. I don't.
Another new leaf. Time for change. No apologies or validations. Just reasons, explanations, and progress.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
also, you don't really know what people are leaving out. they could be telling only part of the truth.
you do have a point, though. i like this whole journal thing, but there are quite a few things i won't really write about here.
Oh, whew. I was going to say, I only posted what happened in my bed yesterday 'cause there was a damn earthquake. But now that I know I'm off the hook...
Online journaling seems very weird to me. I only post to the one I have here 'cause it's a nice place and I like the folks around these parts. And only people here get to comment on them. And I'm not gettin' laid, anyhow. So there.