It's the "v" in November that makes it sound so sexual, I am so deep in self-exploration (absolute yet amusing delusions) that I'm turned on by "months" now (not really, but you know what I mean). Notice the re-occuring themes; the left and right mostly. Bit by bit this becomes much less private, why "blog" if you have no intention of being read? Who says this is my sole blog? I remember in the (public) early days of the Internet (which was a nice time, although now, finding rareties has lost its appeal but that's a rant for another day) I had stumbled on the (gif-less, rare at the time) online journal of a fascinating anonymous young woman from the UK. She made daily posts about personal discoveries and examinations; things that she would test on her senses like sensory deprivation and then not-so-profound experiments, like redecorating... though still experiments. You could read back to earlier archives and keep track of her studies or her progress, if you will, it had a logical chronology to it especially with vague hints of events in her personal life. It was, in a way, private AND public at the same time. It was new and exciting at the time to have this window on someone's life but not in a cheap voyeuristic manner... I figured out later that she was keeping herself in check by publishing these posts online and that it made for a true testimony of fragile mental health -- when dug into and dissected so profoundly. The pages were accompanied by photos she took, they might not've seemed special or anything but clearly it meant something to her and that put much of it into context (or it added to it). It went on for roughly three or four years (and it was not popular, mind you). Near the end you could tell she was struggling as much of her writtings became more and more contradictory but she was aware of it, and she did her best to juggle it. She found and lost love during the course of the journal and it wasn't long after the loss that the journal ended, as many pages frequently disapear on the web, this was a loss for me as well. She would carefully interact with the little audiance she had, exchanging opinions and observations... but that was it. This was vital to her, everything had to be on topic... she felt she was on to something and I'll never get to know if she ever got there, who she was, where she is now... I tell you, THIS was blogging at its best. I have nothing against the "weekly anecdotes" (ie: here's a FLICKR ALBUM OF ME AND BLAH SHOPPING) ... (ok so maybe I do have a little something against that, fuck it) but this had heart and soul in every word. I miss it and I miss her. It's something that I try to pull off here (badly) and I dedicate it to you, ****, wherever you are.