NB: This Isn’t About You

Sometimes I’m struck by my need to talk about an idea that sits in the back of my head, which lurks on the edges of an idea spurred by someone else, and someone else, and something else, this coalescing kalaidoscopic notion that owes its genesis not to a person or a thing but to the myriad experiences of my life, but where I fear that if I post about it on my blog it will be seen – perhaps reasonably so – as an example of using my blog as some sort of long-form so-there no-response alternative, the slamming of a door in the face of someone who is sure I’m yelling about them, instead of rather the natural flow of notional detritus from someone dedicating themselves to recording and testing and improving the way their ideas are expressed and tested on to a page in some way, and creates the problematic gulf of trying to prove to a person who’s already mad just how much what I just said is in fact about what I was talking about, and not actually, really, honestly and secretly about you.

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