The Danger Inherent In Having No Audience

There is a danger to believing I'm alone in a room, talking to myself: I'll say anything. I'll get this wicked impulse to say things that I would never say to another person. For instance, when I first noticed Yahoo was allowing users to enter statuses, I became bolder and bolder with those statuses, thinking to myself, "Who's going to see?" Finally, I put in a status that read "Got some," the pinnacle of inappropriate public statements. True, but, really, who needed to know that?

Then the day came in which Bryan noticed that Yahoo was allowing users to enter statuses, only, as is his way, he started looking around at the other statuses and users rather than impulsively enter his own. Saw mine. Laughed his head off.

In discussion, he said that the only reason that particular status of mine would bother him is if it didn't refer to him, but (having done the math) because it did, it became nothing more than a hilariously inappropriate public statement.

Of course, now that I knew someone had seen it and that there was a distinct possibility of others seeing it, I went through and deleted all but one status and haven't entered another since.

This makes me wonder, though, if this was the mindset of a particular twitterer I follow when he tweeted "Just had incredible sex with my wife. No, my Twitter acct wasn't hacked." Why in the world would he tweet that? Who knows.

I followed him immediately upon reading it.

He's also the same twitterer who, this week, tweeted, "Holy crap, I'm like a real pastor." I wanted to reply so badly because there's something about a man of God who says "Holy crap" that just tickles my feet. Nothing quite like keeping it real, you know?

My point... right. Knowing/ suspecting that my readers are few to none makes me want to write about just about anything. I have things to say, trust me. It's a danger, a temptation. I guess I'm still deciding where my line is. I'll let you know.