This is my narrative — my story. I write about my life, my reality, my thoughts, my emotions — my experiences. I never identify people by name here. Those of you who know me may identify some of the folks (or yourselves) that I mention. That said, I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to be messy or drag anyone. I apologize in advance if what I write offends folks, but these are my lived experiences. I will be the first to admit that my interpretations may be skewed — biased, even; but, experiences and emotions are relative. They are subjective.
Also, in these personal accounts, I center myself. This is my story. I am the main character — all other folks, no matter how important, are the supporting cast. Or collateral damage. Perspective.
Writing is a release for me. Nothing more, nothing less.
As I write this, I am reminded of this quote:
“I’m a novelist. Anything you say can be taken down and used against you in a work of fiction.”
– Annie R. Allen
Let’s replace novelist with blogger, and work of fiction with my blog. I mean no harm, but I suppose people in my life could be considered casualties of war.
By the same token, consider this:
“If a writer loves you, everything will be remembered, from the moles scattered on your back to how assuredly you talk about the future. Climatic moments will play in their head like a movie. Each and every inkling of passion will be transcribed. Your words are never forgotten – instead mulled over in their minds until they can make sense of it all. Your expressions are never forgotten – they can stir them up in their minds in a moment’s notice.”
Now, even if I never loved you, if you were a part of my life, you were a part of my story. We all have a story to tell — I plan to tell mine.
No harm, no foul. My intentions are pure.