My Blog & I.

My blog and I have a very peculiar relationship.
I have been through three blogs since I was seventeen. And they all chronicled different parts of my life. The first I remember was called CursedCrytal, hosted by DeadJournal. Oh, the angst-filled adoloscence. It was all about the A levels and uhm, yes, general angst. Of course this was way, way before blogging started to get hyped up. Before word-warring and the likes. It was just an avenue to write and write and write away all your thoughts and emotions.

And then. The second phase. Through University. Highpriestess @ Diary-X. That had fond memories. The last bit of JC through the last year of University. Different experiences, different thoughts and emotions. It was then blogging started becoming a fad, and I helped start up a few blogs for my friends.

And then. One fine day. At the cusp of my life’s culmination of confusion and mayhem, Diary-X decides to crash on me. Four years of writing, some backed up, some not, all swirled down the drainage pipes. It was so depressing. But it didn’t prepare me for what lay ahead.

And now this. Highpriestess @ WordPress. Through all my blogs, my writings have steadily gained a readership, but mostly close friends and passerbys. I have written a fair amount over the past 7 years and a few posts have recieved their fair amount of harsh comments and criticisms while some backlashed and backfired.

The reason I write is because I gain some form of relief through words. While a couple of thoughts are too private and find themselves password protected, most are laid bare, like my heart pinned on my sleeve. I have had well-wishers, I have had detractors, I have had friends who have found my writings too depressing. But, in most scenarios, I don’t slander. As much as the temptation heats up to splash names and condemn till I feel fully satisfied, I can’t stoop to low levels.

See. Take the certain blogger I harshly critcised recently. So many people can’t stand her. But it’ll be wrong (as Raji rightly pointed out) to ask her to censor her writing. But because blogs are viewed as publications, some discretion has to be advised, and thus sensitive racial and national issues should be avoided. That doesn’t stop her of course, as there are as many name-splashing, photograph-shaming as racial slurs on her blog. And no one stops her. They try, but they can’t. It is up to her to practise discretion and
avoid stepping on the wrong toes.

Now. Let’s get back to me. There is only one reason I ever censor my writing or remove posts, and that’s because of my family. If there are going to be repercussions that will affect my closest circle, I am not going to risk it. However, a recent post that has garnered a flurry of activity has left me completely frustrated and angry. It is good enough that I don’t mention names. But apparently it is not. The thing about blogging is this. I can lie if I want to. Write completely fictional stories if I want to. But why should I? I could have done that a long time ago. Or heck, I could have wrote a book.

There were two things that irritated me completely.
1) Comment by a particular Jade.
(I could re-publish the comment here, but because it reveals too much of information about the ex, whose present life is of no concern to me or to anyone who reads here, I am leaving it out.)
See, I invite criticisms on the material of the post itself. One could choose to disagree with me with what I write and try to introduce a fresh perspective. But the funniest thing happened, and through Jade’s comment, there is a suggestion that the ex fell in love with a friend. Something that I did not mention in my post. He might, he might not have. I don’t care. What I care about and what I write is what has happened to me and what I feel. Which is why my dears, please refrain from being know-it-alls, and don’t bring personal information into the picture. It is my blog afterall, and if I have taken the responsibilty to not act like a shmuck and claim that I know everything, do the same. Or as I suggested, start your own. I also do not appreciate inaccurate information about my dating habits. It sickens me to no end. Check and double-check your information. Don’t come trotting in here like a superb genius and spew nonsense and invite guffaws of laughter from people who know better. It makes you look like an absolute fool and is highly comical. Also, please keep your name calling such as Hypocrite, away from me. And don’t get sucked back to Primary School. If you have a bone to pick with me, pick it with me directly.

2) Pick the bone with me directly.
I am going to write this here once and for all. Do Not Piss Me Off.
I have edited and password protected previous posts because of some concerns, and I may do the same if your concerns are justified. But I do not appreciate anyone passing a message through my family to censor what I write. Please. Grow up. What? You need to run to daddy or mommy to allay your fears? Listen. If you feel cornered and totally maligned by what I write, tell your story as you like it. Do not come threatening me or my family that you might have to tell your version that might tarnish my reputation. Go ahead. Spew it all out. Tarnish my pristine reputation. Since you do have an audience that buys your trash, fine.  I don’t care! The people who matter to me know better, (and trust me they know you and the lies you’ve been telling and are waiting to expose you and gasp! that just might be my family. so don’t put yourself up again to look like an absolute nitwit) But here’s another model answer if people pester you about what I write that you/they have assumed to be you. “Huh? What is she talking about? Don’t listen to her la. Of course she’s lying.” See. That saves you trouble and me trouble. I don’t run to your dad complaining about your illicit behaviour, do I? So, correct me if I expect the same.

Ah. Off my shoulders.
The thing that frustrates me tremendously is people disturbing me when I do not disturb them. If my writing disturbs you, again, just don’t read. I mean, those who have vouched never to read me, continue to read me and that just serves to irritate them further. Why put yourself through all these troubles? Strike me off your list. Ban my address so that if and when the temptation strikes and your itchy fingers start to type in my address, your computer shuts down. Once you have decided not to read, stick with that vow. Don’t cause yourself and me unneccesary trouble. If you don’t like me, why are you trying to find out about my life? Don’t preach to me about what I should or should not write. Even Jade proclaimed that I typed “politically correct”. However, strangely, Jade seems to think it is hypocritical. Well. Let’s just say I am. I am downright hypocritical and all I write are lies. Do I malign and slander and shame? No. So please. Take it somewhere else. My family and I have so many important things to do and decide that we absolutely have no time to entertain this kind of rubbish. And bringing my blogging to attention to the ‘elders’  is immature. MOVE ON, darn it. I kinda regret blocking off that post after friends have told me that nothing there is finger-pointy and since it is my space, I should write as I please.

This will be the last time. Don’t make me furious, really.
Take your personal issues out of here and deal with them.
Open up a new space, or furiously type about how a particular blogger such as myself has irritated you. And wait for the comments.
Chances are, you’ll get something like, “If you don’t like it, why read?”
I can be a brat and say hey, this is MY place and I will write what I WANT and what I FEEL and if YOU don’t like it, YOU can kindly take your stinky little bottom out of HERE.

But hey, maybe I should just say it. ;)