In the course of all this blogging about comments, I realize that people who read this blog take it literally.
They don't look at it as a work of fiction. That's because blogs are supposed to be like diary entries, or journals.
I don't see it that way. I have tried to create characters based upon real-life people in actual scenarios that have become fictionalized by me. This blog, although based upon fact, is pure fiction.
When I blog, I am fully aware that I am not telling the whole truth. When I first started blogging, I became aware of this discrepancy between the truth as it is and the truth as I see it.
I stopped trying to write the truth as it is, because there's no way to do it. I am not equipped with that talent. My forte is to embellish, exaggerate, and distort reality.
I am not comfortable with portraying myself as an infalliable hero. I am more interested in making myself out to be the villain. Most bloggers, I think it's fair to say, paint themselves as noble and kind. Not me-- I paint myself as a mean-spirited, ugly-minded, biased individual with a grudge against the world and a need to be confrontational.
Why do I paint myself in this light? Because there is a kernel of truth to it. I do feel these things and think these thoughts, but in polite company I never give in to those feelings. However, in the realm of writing, I can be whoever I want to be. And I think it's just as phony to portray myself as a good guy who helps old ladies across the street, always gets the girl, and never has a bad thing to say as it is to portray myself as a selfish scoundrel who is numb to the feelings of others.
There is safety and escape in both of those roles. Nietzche would've divided those two poles into Appollonian and Dionysian opposites. I guess I lean toward the darker side, the Dionysian aspect.
I don't want to write a blog that describes a false view of the world as some happy-go-lucky place where everything ends up OK. No. Instead I want to describe a false view of the world as a painful exercise in losing the battles you fight so hard to win.
Both views are patently bogus. I opt for the more pessimistic side because it is closer to my natural disposition, but there is another reason.
Ever read one of those happy-go-lucky blogs, where everything is peace and sunshine? Well, if you have, then you no doubt notice that there will be one entry out of a dozen that isn't rosy at all. The blogger will have a bad day, and they will write about it... and it will sour the entire context of the blog. Suddenly, the blog is not so happy-go-lucky, and that taints the entire body of the work. You cannot read it in the same way ever again. You will never be able to say, "This blog is happy-go-lucky" because the memory of that bad-natured post will stay with you longer than you wish.
One bad-natured blog post can devalue the entire content of a good-natured blog.
Likewise, if all you read from me is piss and vinegar, but then comes that one entry where I'm actually happy, and things are going good, and the world is dandy, then that taints the entire content of my blog.
But instead of devaluing it, the opposite occurs: the blog is lifted upward. It transcends its gloomy consistency and becomes, for a moment, something beautiful, pure and shining.
The reader cannot look at my blog in the same way ever again. They will never be able to dismiss it as a dark blog, because of those short instances where the light shines through.
That's my intent with all of this.
What good does it do to tell you all that I am the greatest guy that ever lived? All that does is set me up for a fall, and that means the readers are only reading me in anticipation of that fall. I don't want my readers to be focused on such a negative goal as looking forward to seeing someone who seemingly has it all lose it.
However, I think it does a lot of good to tell you all that I am scum, because then when things go right, it is redeeming. It is transcendent. It is Ebenezer Scrooge realizing that it's not too late to be kind; It is Kilgore Trout meeting his creator after years of obscurity and suffering, asking to be young again; It is Samson bringing down the pillars on the Phillistines who blinded him.
I'm not writing about tragedy here. I'm writing about triumph and overcoming odds... but in order to do that, you need to detail the odds.
If I write about doing coke all night while pining away for the girl I love, that's not supposed to be glamorous. It's meant to be ironic. It's supposed to show you a pathetic person who thinks he knows the best way to deal with pain. You know that it's not the best way to cope; I know it's not the best way to cope... but you wouldn't get any sense of that if I just wrote, "I miss that girl."
You wouldn't believe me unless I showed you how low the spirit can go. And you can't show someone that unless you actually go there.
So to all those people who think that I am telling you the whole story, be forewarned: you are only getting the story I want you to receive. And the stories I want you to receive have messages, morals, and themes.
I want people to come away from my blog feeling like they learned something, about themselves and the world around them. I could care less if they learned something about me. In fact, I'd prefer that they learned nothing about me. I don't think my life is that interesting.
If I wrote the literal truth about my life, this is how my blog would read:
Today I woke up, showered, shaved, and went to work. I bought some coffee. I blogged for a bit. I did some work. I ate lunch and smoked a cigarette. I drove home and listened to some music during the commute. When I got home, I turned on the A/C and smoked some pot. Then I went to band rehearsal. We played for two hours. Then I went home and thought about the girl I love, and fell asleep watching The Simpsons.
Now, you tell me: Which would you rather read, the literal truth, or the fictionalized version? And if you say you'd rather read the literal truth, then you have no taste and I'd rather that you go and read another blog.
Just the fact that I had to explain this is sad, because there is a mystique that I've tried to maintain. Now I feel like I've let the cat out of the bag. And maybe I haven't been doing that great of a job.
Am I being too demanding? Fuck yes! But it's my way of weeding out the readers who get it from the readers who don't get it. I'm writing literature here, not diary entries. I may be writing for myself, but I'm also writing for you. And if you don't want to read literature, then you are at the wrong blog.
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