27 May 2020

 there are parts of my life that I've left packed up and hidden away. Not because they're "bad" or "criminal", per se. ..

Usually, it's because I think they're not all normal experiences, and I'm a bit afraid of what judgements and shamings might happen, if I treat them flippantly, or incompletely. Then again, I'm not ready to face some of this stuff, myself... maybe? Or, perhaps, if they got a long treatment, people would get bored and skip over that explanation.

There's a fear of being vulnerable, and still getting repercussions, especially unexpected ones.

I also am not fond of talking about other people, whether they're close friends or distant celebrities. Who am I judge what drives them, what their perspectives are, or if they need to change. I might talk to the person directly, if we know each other, and if I haven't pissed them off to the point of exclusion. However, especially on Facebook or in settings where they're not present, it feels like so much gossip.

I also don't like to voice my thoughts, much, about other people or current events, or social ills... because I really don't enjoy stamping out forest fires. Again, I'm more likely to comment if we're one-on-one or in person... but I might also be quiet as a mouse because I can tell that the other person's views differ from mine, from what they've already said. I really don't like "office politics" - trying to get one person to change their views to align with mine. I'm quite willing to let them make mistakes and learn from their mistakes.

...but, it's another essay, talking about talking. Considering what I've seen in my memories, here, this is definitely not the first time that I've talked about talking. I'm not even sure if it's useful information to consider. It just feels like, "I reserve the right to be silent."