Reflectivesurfaces's Blog

I have re-read my entries in the blog reality and it is the strangest thing.  I don’ t recall even writing some of the stuff.  My language is different.  My syntax is different.  I am starting to wonder if I suffer from multiple personality disorder, but you would think there would be days that I would be better dressed than usual.  I do admit that sometimes I speak with funny accents (which are only funny to me, and not to people from the regions that I attempt to impersonate.  They would find them, I’m sure, to be distasteful.)  and sometimes I do burst into song, but I don’t think either of “eccentricities” would indicate a full blown personality disorder.  Maybe a little one, but some would say that is what makes me a little bit “interesting” (code word for harmless, garden-variety crazy). 

I have re-read the entries and I see another level of meaning that had not been the initial intent.  I admit that I try to approach this blogging as a release and allow the fingers to take the major part of responsibility for what ends on the “page”.  To let  go and just let it flow, as it were.  But now I am starting to wonder a bit about not myself, but  more about my mental health.  I mean, who doesn’t remember what they write?  And I know that I never edit these entries beyond typing and grammatical errors.  If I was an actor, I wouldn’t be able to watch myself either.  Too mortifying and I would spend way too much energy tearing myself apart.   I completely understand what the beautiful Megan Fox was saying when she stated she will never make a sex tape, or  even a semi clad love scene because she will see herself as a hippo having sex and it will put her off sex forevermore. 

Is it just me?  Or does everyone have this sense of insecurity?  It could be based in an undiagnosed  inferiority complex.  Or just an unwillingness to look objectively at one’s self.  Or perhaps, I am channeling someone else’s thoughts.  (And wouldn’t that be cool, but it wouldn’t be Hemingway.   It would be Hemingway’s untalented second cousin or something.)  I think ultimately it means that I must not know myself very well if I don’t recognize my voice.

Another learning experience.  Another lesson to learn.