True Story

This morning I woke up thinking about writing.  I think it’s amusing that I always think I have nothing to say. 

I always have something to say.

In my loss for words I went around reading the blogs of some friends.  Coffee mug in hand and a few online errands completed, I sifted through their impressions, thoughts and ideas.  I smiled at their jokes and their insights.  I even left a few comments when the spirit so moved me.  I love that some of my girlfriends have blogs.  Especially those who saw fit to leave me and move to some place far away, no matter how I prayed to impede their growth.

(Tiff, you know who you are…and I never actually said those prayers. I just really, really wanted to!)

I have always kept a journal.  In my old apartment, I used to have a wall that I painted words on…and repainted and repainted when those feelings changed.  It was all very Mad Love.  When my emotions get too big words start spilling from me like an open tap.  I want them all around me.  I suppose that’s why Facebook and Twitter are so appealing to me. 

Lately, I keep hearing people say that everyone lies when they post status updates. 


Like, I’m-meeting-with-President-Obama-today-to-discuss-my-shoe-addiction lies or I’m-bloated-but-I’m-not-posting-that-so-I’m-gonna-use-a-quote omission kind of lies.  I think we would all be completely nuts to share everything online.  The omission lie online doesn’t bother me so much.

I kind of feel like my loved ones from far, far away (not the acquaintances we all have surfing on the fringe of our lives) keep me posted….literally.  I love watching their posts and feeling like I get a glimpse into their lives.  I love their pics, great quotes and funny anecdotes. I love knowing that they are surviving hardships and celebrating landmarks.  To each I post comments that say, “I’m thinking of you” or “Woo Hoo! Good for you!” respectively.

Not everything I write on my wall goes live.  Trust me. I censor but no more then I would in real life.

For example…

How are you?

What kind of response does that illicit?  In a room filled with 600 people you say what we all say…Fine.

In a room with a couple of confidants, you tell the truth.  Whether that truth is really bad or just a day with crabby underpinnings.  We don’t lie on facebook anymore than we do in public.  The real story just always happens face to face. (skype to skype, one on one…you choose your poison) This is the way it should be. 

Even for a girl who likes to write on the wall.

This acknowledgement begs us all to forego the lazy followings online and actually pick up the phone, drop a line or meet up for coffee with those we truly care about.  The people you want the whole story from.  It makes me want to purchase pretty stationary to send letters with flower petals, pictures or random memorabilia folded into them.  Notes that say, “This made me think of you.”  I want to send a true story out into the world to have a true story come back.

Doesn’t opening a letter sound delicious. 

I think I may have to start gathering addresses….and that makes me smile.

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