2000-05-26 - 14:27:27

May 26, 2000

Am I one ?

Being some one who keeps a diary seems to me to have its advantages over trying to be a "journalist." My diary is mine, a secret diary open to those who want to look over my shoulder as I try to sort out everything about myself and my opinions.

At times I am a "train wreck," in the past I guess maybe a multiple train wreck. I ponder over the past and sometimes go deep into my childhood and pleasant memories. Sometimes the accent is on the present and my family and other times a rant on some damn thing that irks me greatly.

I read the journals and diaries that interest me and don't return to those uninteresting (to me) ones. There are one or two writers in existence now that I dislike the controversial, egotistical, know-it-all affect that I see and have mentioned in private e-mail, usually to some that feel the same as I do. It was usually in the prolonged, back stabbing, back biting, venal bickering intruding on an otherwise pleasant discussion that as I discontinued reading that journal (?) Would comment to another person via e-mail.

Different strokes for different folks doesn't seem to be a viable alternative for those insistent, elbowing people. In many respects I have been through the same train wrecks entangling people now, only at a different time on a different track. It is only after to my mind, when a person seems to be bent on an eternal train wreck that I just quit checking that journal. Much fiction (based on the human condition) is based on troubles and the main characters reaction and struggle to survive, emotionally and physically to overcome the obstacles.

Maybe what I am saying is that this is still my diary and if reliving train wrecks is on my mind, that is what it will be. If someone cares to criticize me, unless they send me an e-mail directly I probably won't even know it. This after all is my hidden secret cave where I go to lick my wounds and recover from the outrageous actions of the world in general. Anyone who needs a bit of space in my cave is welcome to come in and do their thing, as long as they are not hydrophobic and biting. Misery loves company, true - - but also cheerfulness does too. Huddling and shivering under the same rocky cave roof can sometimes cause us to see the silly side of the whole damn thing and start to chuckle.

So why all the cannibalistic hoo haw going on with these people trashing each and seeking a reason to be hurt ? Especially people who I like to read and have formed a respect and admiration for ? ?

Damfino........................

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