Saturday, December 18, 2004

"Pick me, pick me"

I have a confession to make. I read other people's blogs and start comparing and everything inside me screams "pick me, pick me." Not that I know who 'me' is but I want to be chosen. I hate how that makes me feel. I hate how I don't know how to tap into that place inside me that is 'me' and not 'not me'. Because what I appreciate most in reading other people's blogs is feeling like they exposed their heart for a bit and let me see it. No guard rails. No stop signs. Full exposure for that brief moment in time.

This sounds like stuff I normally would be writing in my journal. So considered this my exposed heart for the moment even though there is that voice inside me that says to polish it all up and make it pretty before I let you see it. hah.

My sister is a writer too. We phone and read each other our stuff. One of us will start by saying "give me your honest opinion". I have to say she is much better at saying "oh, you are right" when I give her honest feedback than I am. There are occasions where we tell each other to 'f off' in a teasing sort of way because what we thought was the next piece of Pulitzer Prize writing just got exposed for what it wasn't. We have become so used to the cadence of each other's 'voice' that our bullshit detectors are going full bore as we listen to one another.

I want to be my own best bullshit detector and I don't know how to get there.

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