Pedestrian Pursuit

I still feel like i have nothing say: as in - nothing of value to anyone else. I suspect i have zero following (with the exception of Hannah, my BF and once in a great while Elizabeth.) Not that they don't count, but, maybe by this point they read me due to obligatory routine or habit as opposed to the fundamental worth or relevance of what i now have to say.

Not intellectual or probing, not even particularly clever or amusing: I hear the staid nature of my sentences: the lusterless repetition: the irritiating misuse of colons. Yes, trivial and flimsy - piddling around in the shallow end of the pool am i.
So what's the point? Even the mirror of self-examination is now blurry: ostensibly the backbone (i think) of what i once had to offer(??)

Living in a couplet requires a new accountability.
Once a flagrant dumper, i've tried to leave that sort of haphazard stewing behind since it would have personal reprecussions that would far supercede any potential value that might come from some internal exhumation or on-line confessional. Not that there was ever really any genuine malice in what i wrote before, (though i may have sounded pretty hostile sometimes.) But, my goal was to explore, in real-time the progression of my thoughts/feelings in the absence of judgement or self-censoring. I still like this idea. But, by writing down nasty thoughts or otherwise unattractive feelings, there is the sort of comitment made that could indellibly affect someone we love. There's a reason why we don't spew each every fleeting thought in real life afterall.

In real life, we do all ebb and flow, adjust and reconsider. We contradict ourselves. We wage internal battles between thoughts and feelings, conscious and unconscious, acceptable and unacceptable belief systems. But what we don't do is put those battles on display and expect real life partners to ignore them or not be dereteriously affected. Its hard enough to sort out or own thoughts, so how could we expect someone else to mediate that tangled labryinth and correctly interpret the serious from the fleeting, the slander from the bonified stances?

They can't.
There's no way.
It's impossible.

I guess that's why a diary is a diary, a client/therapist privacy is sacred and my blog *was* anonymous. So, now that its not, how do i still make it work? I guess i really don't want to quit. But, i do have a deep need to feel as though i'm being authentic.

Know what i mean?