I’m done. I’m not posting anymore. Not only is it a colossal waste of my time, but it is just a pathway I have created for the people I know in reality. Privacy doesn’t exist for me here, nor will it if I continue to post and hope that it is viewed by strangers. I’ll stick with my journal and my pen and my books, where no one can open them and peer into my thoughts. I like posting and I love writing, but I can’t spare everyone’s feelings. I am going to write, because it’s a sickness I have to get out on paper, but this way people will stop asking me, accusing me, and overall being offended by what I type. It’s just too much to bare, and I’m done trying to work with it.
If it’s not you, it’s them. I honestly need to delete every single one of my social networks and just buy a damn journal (not that I don’t already do that). I simply enjoy the feedback of someone saying, “Wow, that was such a beautiful poem!” or “Let’s be tumblr best friends! We are so alike”. But I can’t have that small treat for myself on my days when I’m feeling my lowest. Instead, my pages are used for stalking, for creeping, for digging, or for searching. My blog is a garbage can, and you salvage through it trying to get your hands onto to my dirty secrets underneath. Every person that I know in real life assumes I’m talking about them, or that I’m dishonest, and it simply gets old. That isn’t the purpose. It’s for me, and my wellbeing. Not for you to be nosey and salvage for what I like to remain hidden.