NEEDLING

I get out of the bath feeling like a pink elephant. That is to say I feel damn good, my friend. Drinking a couple of beers while macerating in hot water with the music blasting. What else could I want on a late Wednesday afternoon?

Glenn knocks on my door taking me out of my fantasy world inside my bathtub to ask me if I want to join him and Kari for diner tonight.

“Hallo!” He yells as he knocks on the door frame... I keep my door open most of the time I’m present and at home...
“Yeah...” I yell from inside my bath.
“You want to have some diner later on?”
“Sure...”
“Spaghetti,” he yells back.
“Why not,” I scream myself. “I got a descent bottle of red, I’ll bring that,” I add.
“Alright, mate, see you in about one hour.”
“Alright, man.”

So Wednesday is coming to a close soon enough.

Tracie was here last week at one point and we were with Glenn sitting outside at the table in front of Glenn and Kari’s place as usual. Tracie was telling me that she thought I limited myself way too much as I wrote this blog.

“But,” I said, “how can I just write everything that I think and see, this is a blog which is accessible by all people.”
“Sure... but by censoring yourself, you’re limiting yourself and you’re not saying exactly what’s on your mind. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not being completely honest... and... and it shows in some of your entries.”
“I know this... I know.”
“You have to tell us everything.”
“That’s easily said, but not so easily done. It was easier a couple years ago when I was writing a blog-like journal and sending it only to a chosen few. But being on the net, being open to all, how can I just go and write everything? I’m blocked. I'm between a rock and a hard place. I write better and more specifically whenever I know I have an audience, yet when my audience includes, at least potentially, everybody, especially the people in my life about whom I might be inclined to write about, then I feel as if I have to censor myself.”
“But... you cannot... or at least you shouldn’t.”
“That’s easy to say. Not so easy to do. I’ve pissed off some people already, you know. I can only do so much in so many words with a more or less an impromptu format. It’s not like a journal.”
“No... I guess not... I guess it isn’t a journal at all though it takes the format of a journal.”
“I’ve never liked to write in a journal, I’m too much of an exhibitionist... and journals are too private... they don't really interest me. I need to know somebody’s out there reading me, otherwise I can’t bother myself with it all.”

Tonight is a full moon eclipse. Brian and Tracie had invited me to come over and check out the moon through their telescope. I’ve had a few beers and I need to stick around here, so I called to let them know I wouldn’t be showing up. My sister and her friend have been here since last night, and we’ve driven around in the car a bit. I’m tired. I don’t want to get into my car until it is once again absolutely needed of me to do so to... go to work for example tomorrow at around twelve. Till then, I don’t want to drive. I want to drink beer, chill out, listen to some music, maybe write a couple of entries, and eventually go to bed.