Gregory Pettigrew (etherial) wrote,
Gregory Pettigrew
etherial

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On the subject of Openness.

Many moons ago, roughly 55 as the time flies, I created this journal on the theory that I could talk about anything, and anyone dumb enough to read it did so with the implicit assumption that any feelings that were hurt or drama that was created was their own damn fault. However, old habits die hard, and as more and more of my friends glommed on, it's become harder and harder to talk about my angst without wondering if I'm really just tac-nuking people or if I'm actually getting somewhere. Back in the day, I could babble on endlessly about Marc, and even though 13 of you know him, I feel perfectly fine to bitch and whine about the entire sordid affair - partly because it's ancient history, but, to be honest, partly because I felt like I was the only one who knew or cared. Likewise, I've felt free to bitch about Kim, since my lj connection to her consisted of only her, until I felt instantly weird that she had met one of my other friends.

Some people have, and I've considered, done crazy things like "friends-locking" and "filtering" posts, and I must admit, this kind of goes against my policy for both my LJ and my life. Like, I could have created a "Man, Belen is a total Asshat" filter, and locked Conor out of it to keep from hurting his feelings, but then I'd be totally talking behind his back. I've also considered using pseudonyms. Marc is, for all intents and purposes, a pseudonym, since, to the best of my knowledge, very few people actually know his real name. However, this feels a bit like cheating. Kind of like saying "Man, that Legolas is an Asshat" when everyone (particularly Conor) knows I'm talking about Belen but am too much of a Drama Queen to actually admit it. Besides, as was the case with Marc, people's iRL names tend to be much more obscure and unknown out here in the Intarweb than any apropriate alias I could come up with.

The point of this little quandary, though, has more to do with the fact that the subjects of said angst are on my friends list, and, unlike Kim, have never given any indication that they might return my angst, er, interest (though it should be noted that she's probably reading this post with neither interest nor angst, and probably a little bit of ire mixed with smirkiness). Now, I could just lay it out in the open, like I did with my crush on Pat. This turned out to be a good thing: I got to stop avoiding him, I could feel less ashamed about staring at his crotch - and what a mighty crotch he has, by the way - but I doubt that I'd meet with much success. As a matter of fact, I'd rather expect to be the subject of several "Man, Greg is an Asshat" posts friends-locked to everyone but me.
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