Anonymity personified ... (part two) ...

I really must apologize for the appearance of my last blogpost. I was trying to make everything look absolutely gorgeous and it turned out to be a mess!! (By the way, it took DD -- Darling Daughter, in case you haven't had a chance to read the last post, or perhaps even "gave up on trying to read it while trying to read it" -- almost half an hour to fix the durned thing.) It's looking good now, tho. Try it again, O.K? It'll be much easier on the eyes!

Continuing on ... ... Heavens! Where was I?? Oh, yes, now I remember ... ... ...

You know, when you put your thoughts down in written form, they are permanent. When you put your thoughts down in written form for other people to see -- via the internet, the newspaper, a book, whatever the public forum is -- you leave yourself open to comments/criticisms/other people's thoughts (be they yea/nay), etc.

At the same time, I don't think I was fully aware of the possible consequences of my adding comments to another person's blog posts until yesterday.

Perhaps I have finally learned my lesson!(?) Even tho something is written and "out there" for all to view does not necessarily give another permission to intrude, uninvited. I have, throughout my whole life, enjoyed living vicariously ... and, as such has been my wont, have been an avid reader of fiction for many, many years.

Well, this is not fiction, folks! This is the real thing.

I am currently in the process of writing my autobiography (as it pertains to my many years as a taxicab driver). Whether or not it will ever be published remains to be seen. It's not an easy write. In fact, I'm having a hard time bringing myself to the point of being able to write about some of the really painful episodes. Not that there were that many, I hope you understand, it's just that I don't want to think/write about/relive ANY of them!

I know that I have to do it! It would be the best way possible to expurgate those memories from my mind. I just would rather not do it today, O.K?

Does that make me a coward? "You betcha!" my step-mother would have said. At the same time, however, she would have understood my reticence.

Well, you all should now have a better mental image of my "personified anonymity".