I was almost asleep, just drifting through that half there – half here stage, when I felt compelled to get up and go open the window. The world has been stolen. Everything’s covered in this grey mist and you get the feeling that if the scenery would be revealed again, you might be somewhere completely different. It’s a strange feeling, being wrapped up in this soft gray fog, feeling the piercing coldness of it. Comforting and unsettling at the same time.
Just before this, when I was laying there, waiting for sleep to collect me, I had a concerning thought swimming around in my head. The purpose of this site, I think, was for me to be honest. But there lies the trap. Honesty is a very tricky thing. Let’s say I would be brutally honest (what a fitting term if there ever was one) about everything I feel. How many people would that honesty have a possibility to shock or even hurt. Not to say that for me to be honest means being cruel, just that those private thoughts, might be private for a reason. Also, I’m not sure how comfortable I would feel laid out completely bare. I think my brain would refuse that. Self-editing is happening even now, without me thinking about it. No, I think absolute honesty might be too ambitious a goal, perhaps we could settle for a honest attempt at being honest? At this point in time, when no-one even knows this site exists, that seems easy enough to do. Although seemingly being honest with yourself might be one of those illusions, protecting you from hating yourself if you really saw behind it all.
You’re thinking I should go to bed aren’t you. I think I might. Next entry, I promise, will be less pretentious. Being honest with myself now, pretentiousness is one of my biggest faults. There, now I feel better.