bAh

I've decided that my week in the office I will rewrite/edit my sci-fi I wrote last summer. It needs a lot of integrity related issues resolved. I was trying to finish it before my time was up in the office, so I ended it quickly and without much effort to coagulate the whole story. I only get 5 hours a workday with my son, so writing on here is limited. Even now he sits next to me asking for Thomas (the train) and watching Toy Story.

I've been thinking about starting an anonymous blog in which I can write the dark and creepy things that crawl in my head, but can not decide if it would be worth the trouble. I am not wholey this blog any more then I would be represented by the creepy crawly one. Something tells me there would be no harm in it, but then again who knows if I could really keep it a secret account. What is the point if it can't be kept all for myself, and if it can't be kept annonymous?

There is this odd belief I have, well it might not be odd, but I've never really discussed it with anyone. It's kind of like believing in mind reading (stay with me). If we could all read each others minds all the time... We could never really have a interpersonal identity. This person would really know I think they are a complete jerk, and that person would know that I have a huge desire to strip naked and run through a pile of shredded paper. What good is having fantasies about wringing someone's neck if they know about it? I think I've explained it, have I?
My odd belief is that if we as people do not keep some secrets, some things about us inside ourselves, if we bare it all to the world all the time, we aren't who we are, we don't have a true existance... I don't know why but it's just the way I feel. Part of why we humans treasure privacy is because we hold that sacred, and another person invading it is like someone ripping at our person. I still don't think that explains it, but it's the best way I can say it.

I guess I'm just glad that there is no such thing as psychic mind readers. That would have to be a most miserable existance. And also a huge reason I will never lead my son to believe I have super natural powers to know when, what and how he does anything. In my experience, that kind of power in the hands of the parent can do good, but it can also turn into something cruel and dibilitating.

Eh, enough of that, this kid has to go up to bed so mama can rest her sore muscles. Recycling is Very Hard work.