Rorschach

I had a realization today that my posts and words over the years have been like a Rorschach Test for my readers. I wonder if some in person interactions have been that too on occasion.

Honestly, this blog has always been to practice my writing as I plan to publish a novel someday (I’ve been working on it for years). I’ve never been under the delusion that my writing is currently as it should be. My pacing is often off or tedious. My grammar shaky. My tone sometimes imperceptible.

BUT…I do write. Freely. Carelessly at times though too. And it’s not what I say but my actual writing that is problematic, I think. If I could word my thoughts better some people might still be upset or hate me but it’d likely be for the right reasons. *laugh* I swear… my blog and Instagram have been more or less one Rorschach Test after another for viewers and readers over the years.

People see their own shadow or the demons, ghosts…angels that walk among them. Them. For whatever reason it seems my shiny glossiness (ha!) serves as a mirror or if you do poke through the polite glaze all you find are vapors inducing mind trips into your own existence.

*laughing*

…I have no idea why I’m such a trippy read. Such a…reflective façade. I do have an online persona to some degree (as everyone does) and I’m not as vulnerable or deeply and genuinely open as it might seem on first glance. I as m honest. But being an only child around adults I developed an quiet inner world and even if I’m still performing and sharing “for the adults” who are now my peers I’m not any more candid than I was then. I learned quickly how to give out lots of information and build report but not necessarily be that vulnerable without true consent. Are you like that too?

Anyway. … … …Again, I’m starting to see that a lot of the bad and good things people saw in me are about them and their lives. And it explains why they felt jealous, insecure, hopeful…affectionate…excited…inspired to try to imitate me…all while I often have felt irritated, confused, hurt, bullied, betrayed and deeply misunderstood. Sometimes there would be and are kind folks who shy away from negativity and try to be loving and perceptive but…for better or worse, I think that’s also a reflection more of them than of me. Ha! I hope if they’re reading this they realize that’s a compliment. Truly. Maybe a few of them even did or do see some real part of me?

But, I think in general…as disconcerting as it is to me as an aspiring writer, that my soul is missing from my blog. At least. I mean…I’m here but…it’s seemingly not visible to most.

I feel a bit like a ghost. *smile* A part of another time that is alive in the flesh but also confused about how to translate my actual feelings and thoughts into words or phrases that are discernible.

Take that as navel gazing. Perceive that as…narcissism. Assume that this is a tragedy. Think I’m kind and good and smart and lovely and…wise. Think I’m cute. Adorable. A diva. A fashionable lady. A rich bitch. A competing, insecure twat. A pretentious jerk. A liar. A Christian. A sad young lady. A middle-aged soccer mom. A…sweetheart. Honest. An internally healthy victim of everything that’s wrong with the internet and our current culture. A loser. Trash. A beautiful weakling. A wealthy woman of luxury and privilege. A Hipster fraud. A spoiled, WASPY brat. A mediocre, blond, Minnesota sweetie. A blonde. A cool girl. A precocious idiot. A fool. A genius. An artist. A…fake. That’s just a sampling of the plethora of impressions I’ve heard over the years.

Still, it’s actually all been about you. All of all of you. *smile*

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