I blog therefore I am

Why do I blog? That question seems to be thrown at me lately. From friends, from you, Internet, from the universe, from my soul. Why do I blog?

I blog because I can. Because I'm a writer. Because the words spew forth and I must send them into the Internetverse where they lose their potency (I'm very Foucault). Sometimes I blog because my heart is aching and I must take that pain and excise it into words. It's analgesic in the form of non-fiction. Sometimes I blog out of boredom or happiness or in an effort to share my art. But mostly I blog to be funny. I find the world insanely hilarious. The tiniest and mundane and painful things are uproariously funny to me and I must share that laughter with those of you who dare to laugh with me.

It's funny, I suppose, how the universe works.

A dear friend of mine expressed to me yesterday her concern that I maybe was writing about her relationship in my blog (which, I sometimes do, but always in a straightforward way so there is no confusion and certainly sans judgement). And I very poorly tried to explain that I wasn't (to be fair, she'd caught me off guard), but I don't think I made myself clear (another reason I blog: I'm much better in writing than in person). And I'm worried her feelings are still a little sore. Maybe because I can be so caustic and snarky in my blog, it's not clear what a softy I am. I stayed awake most of last night worried I'd hurt feelings.

But the fact of the matter is, I would never, ever passive aggressively try to jab at my friends through my blog. I would never assume to hint about something serious through my blog, not something serious about someone else anyway (but my life is fair game). And if something about my friends bothered me, I certainly would never assume to change their behavior through my blog, or in any way, for that matter. It's none of my damn business. My blog is not a tactic or a device or a weapon to control the world at my whim. I would never assume that.

I wasn't even going to write about this. I was going to shove it down to the place of my psyche that causes headaches and nausea and spew it out at therapy (because that's healthy). But I read one of the most insightful blogs this morning at No Points for Style and it was so appropriate for this situation I felt so totally moved to write. I couldn't help myself. It just happened. Like when you hear music and instinctively bob your head, that's how much I needed to write. Let me quote:

"Yeah, well, when it comes to storytelling, all the facts are in the eye of the beholder and in the words of the storyteller."

And that's how I feel entirely. I write about little things that bug me or that I find amusing and I multiply them outrageously for comedic intent. I do. The world as I see it has endless mocking opportunity and I take advantage of that. Ridiculous people and situations are all blog fodder. As is my life. This is my life and therefore I give myself the freedom to flay my personal insecurities and foibles and emotions and scars up for devouring by the Internet. And, to quote No Points for Style again:

"We can't tell our own stories without telling bits and parts of other people’s stories, but be clear: the truth belongs to the storyteller."


My truth is snarky. And biting. And acerbic. It is. And so maybe it's hard to see where I draw my ethical line. It's my story and I tell it in a certain style and so to spare my friendships and relationships, I try to avoid flaying up their lives as much as possible. I may mention a friend's name in conjunction with a story to give it context, for sure. And I'd like to think the stories I tell about my friends are complimentary. My friends are a part of my life and I would not be able to tell my stories fully if I left them out. It wouldn't be the truth. But while I welcome you, Internet, to laugh with me, at me, after me, beside me, whatever, it would be wrong of me to invite you to laugh at my friends.
 
And so, dear friend, if you are reading this (which you'd better, biotch) please know this is my way of telling the truth. We're not perfect and we both get on each other's nerves sometimes. Sometimes you make me throw up a little (But I promise to tell you right then. You can even check my breath.). But I would never use my blog as a weapon against you or try to manipulate you through my writing or offer up your life for my comedic gains. When I want to do that, I'll just link to your blog and let you make fun of yourself, as it's supposed to be.

Because laughing is what it's all about.