l i f e
sometimes
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christopher@30seconds.org
Sometimes I hate knowing you exist.
I used to write to no one. That was my audience. It didn't matter what I said or did in here because I didn't know who would read this stuff or ultimately that it would (or does) matter.
You can't change what I write and I know it doesn't really matter that you are there, I should've taken that into account when I wrote to no one.
Then no one really meant everyone because I didn't think anyone would come. (Say that three times fast) I learned a few lessons the hard way on that regard, but I still don't care.
You can't change this.
You can't influence it any more than I allow you to.
But every time I give away this URL the vast space of no one becomes smaller, and smaller and smaller.
No one is now everyone except...and you know the rest because the referrer logs don't lie.
You begin to reveal yourselves to me even though you don't write. And that doesn't mean I'd answer anyway. I'm bad about that and I'll say I'm sorry, but I may never change. I may not accept it. I may not like it. I may not change it either.
No, this site remains as it always was...a tribute to no one. To a dead time. To choices and lives touched by them. It is a place for my mindless babble and there is a lot of it. If you read it right you can almost see the rise and fall of the Gin and Tonic waves. Hear the Waits in the background...
Sometimes I really hate knowing you exist because it means I acknowledge you when I don't want to acknowledge anyone. But I post anyway.
A strange passing feeling of guilt, but it doesn't last...then a slightly more nervous voyeuristic feeling of looking through a keyhole and seeing what I shouldn't see...paper tigers.
Maybe that's it. I've allowed myself to find you, I've sought you out and now that I know you're there I don't want you anymore. Or I don't want to know about you. I shouldn't have looked through the keyhole.
Yeah, sometimes I hate knowing you exist.
goodnight 8.10.98
