This is not a memory. This is me, addressing you, my voracious reader.
As a rule, I've been trying to write these memories in chronological order. With a few exceptions, everything I've written so far happened at some time between my birth and my entering into puberty. I am now thinking about moving on to later years, but there are a couple of things I have neglected to write, for personal reasons.
And here I am drawing a line.
Self-exposure has done well for many people at present. (And I am loathe to admit that my surrounding culture influences me in this way. I would love to be above it all, I think.) However, I maintain for the moment that the pursuit of reckless honesty has accelerated a bit beyond its usefulness.
I would explain why I think this, but that kind of philosophical exploration is not welcome here.
1 comment:
I decided to break from eminem and I realized I hadn't been here in awhile so, here I am. And, interestingly enough, this post here touches on something I am instinctively drawn to--Self-exposure.
I'm intrigued, a bit. I'd be interested in your explanation elsewhere perhaps, if you're ever inclined to explore.
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