and sadly sometimes they do them around people who also have blogs. and then those stupid things end up on the blogs and all their friends find out, or worse, the people who they care about find out through the blog and all shit hits all the fans.
its interesting when people defend the blogging but dont defend the original stupid thing. to me they’re both unfortunate. i am around people who do stupid things all the times. in fact some of my favorite people in the world do fucked up stupid mean retarded horrible things over and over and over. then they lie about why they did it then they promise not to do it again and then they just keep fucking up.
but i dont write about it.
not because im cooler than thou, but because some things might not be flushed out yet, because sometimes some things can be worked out, because sometimes people fuck up then find out what theyve done and then shake it off and get back to the good path again.
but sometimes i dont write about them even if they Never get on the good path again because it’s not my job to bring embarrassment and dirty laundry on people who are my so-called friends through my blog. thats what the telephone is for, or the google chat or the AOL chat or any number of ways to express myself that tons of people who have no business knowing about shit wont find out.
sometimes i wonder if i should really stop hanging out with teenagers. sure theyre easy on the eyes but i graduated high school a long time ago. and back in those days if you had a problem with someone you got them on the phone or you looked them in the eye and you had it out and either it was settled, or you arranged for a way for it to get settled.
writing about it on a blog though wouldnt have been the ideal choice because that one seems like simply a way to make things worse, not better. sure the author might feel better getting the drama off his chest but thats almost borderline selfishness because what about all the other parties involved?
trust me, theres a lot of things id love to get off my chest. far more serious things than the fuckups of some of my drug-addled friends. but if i write them i dont hit Publish, i write it in an old fashioned journal or diary or on the creative white space in one of those perfume ads you see in rollingstone.
i love all my fucked up friends even those who act selfish even those who act selfish in response to the original selfishness even those who fuck me over repeatedly and promise to stop doing it. even on a site that says nothing in here is true there is a sense of privacy, not necessarily to protect the innocent, but also to protect the guilty, a club we all belong to.