Voices

Nathan Bransford had a really great post recently on the temptation of abandoning social media. I've only done so when pregnant, because . . . you know. I threw up a lot and got reclusive and kind of crazy. But I've been tempted to leave again, because writing a book is kind of like being pregnant, the throwing up and the reclusiveness and the crazy.

I've been thinking about the culture with each account, though. My Art & Artist post was more in the vein of Tumblr, where we embrace righteous anger and are unabashed in our confessions of depression and anxiety and Netflix bingeing. Why I posted it to Blogspot, where we apologize before describing human emotions, I'm not sure. Probably because I don't have a wide audience. I know all of you personally and consider you my friends, where on Tumblr they're all my friends too, but I've never seen the faces behind the avatars. And Twitter's more like one big cafeteria where we all get to together to tell jokes and engage in that strange mix of cynicism and kindness.

But Tumblr allows itself to be honest and gritty because the culture is all about anonymity, and never handing out your handle to your in-real-life friends (which I've done . . . for some reason). Blogspot (or regular blogs in general) are more about marketing and promotion of your real self, and therefore require highlighting and censoring where appropriate. You have to choose your voice carefully, depending on which venue you choose. And you know what kind of voices to expect from each venue.

But sometimes the voices can be so overwhelming. The internet is just so many voices, and even when I agree with the anger, or join with the laughter, sometimes by the end of the day I feel jumbled and confused and can't find where I am mentally. And I still don't know where to add my voice, despite the years I've had to choose. Where can I discuss my frustration over my faith while having it still be understood that I'm faithful? Where can I post about my children and marriage without feeling like I'm revealing too much of my personal life? Where can I post about fear and anxieties without inviting eye rolls or cruel comments?

I don't know, man, I don't know. Sometimes I'm tempted to turn this blog into a cold, professional website where all the posts are gone and it's simply a basic listing of who I am, in the impersonal manner, and what I offer, and where you can contact me. And to dive into an anonymous Tumblr to satisfy that weird desire to publish my thoughts. I don't know, man, I don't know.

St. Vincent & David Byrne have a song called "I Should Watch TV" where the opening lyrics are:

I used to think that I should watch TV
I used to think that it was good for me
Wanted to know what folks were thinking
To understand the land I live in
And I would lose myself
And it would set me free

This is the place where common people go
A global franchise; one department store
Yes, there were many awkward moments
I had to do some self-atonement
Well, if I opened up
Well, it would set me free

I feel this way about the internet, but the difference is that TV is one sided; it talks at you whereas the internet engages with you. It's the screen you reach through and other human beings reach back in return. With that knowledge I don't want to give in to shyness or fear, I want to keep reaching.

It's good to lose and it's good to win sometimes
It's good to die and it's good be alive
Maybe someday we can stand together
Not afraid of what we see
Maybe someday understand them better
The weird things inside of me