I have written here before about my life long source of despair, having an extreme insecurity about interpersonal and social interactions, even those with my own family. Thanksgiving is coming up and as much as I love them and would love to be with them, a part of me is happy that I "get out of it" so to speak. I will be here in the illustrious Queens NY working on my thesis and dealing with this time without all the scheduling and preperation that puts the holidaze ON EDGE.
We have had a recent death in the extended family, which when I was growing up was always as close as the immediate family, so I have been communicating more than usual. But this is not just because of the death, it has been happening because I realize that at the end of the day blood is thicker than water. As much as I loathe my brother I am envious of his relationship with the extended family. He has kept in touch with everyone, even with my dad's side of the family which we never hear much from except for my Grandma and her other son. He knows people I havn't seen in 20 years. Some of the people I saw just like Christmas I sometimes feel like I don't know anymore, and most of those people dang sure don't know me. Even from my own mother, who growing up I would tell everything, I can't be completely honest about my life. I'm not talking about sex or drinking (things you might imagine would be difficult for anyone to share with their mother) either, I'm talking about just the day to day. My family is not ready for The Butch Stroll.
And I would never want them reading this blog.
In fact, I wouldn't want anyone I know reading this blog. As someone once told me, my sense of humor doesn't translate well over the internet. I can understand that and actually like that when people read some of the shit I say, they might have to scratch their heads for a minute over whether I'm being serious or not. In the Real World, by the way, people often laugh when I'm being completely serious.
But I digress.
Of course it is voyueristic and egotistical to have one of these newfangled blogs. If you are posting shit on the internet, be it about politics or your personal life, you want somebody out there to be interested in it. You want to be watched. But the thing about voyuerism is you usually don't want people you know doing the watching. That is either gross or embarassing or both.
That said, I know that there are a few of you out there in North Carolina, and perhaps some New Yorkers too, who do know me in Real Life. You've found your way here because I've told you about it, so it's not a surprise or revelation. But when I told you about it, I also decreed that you must never tell anyone else about it. So don't. You should never mention this blog, or anything that has to do with it such as links to any form of information about me, to anyone I know or don't know, except me. Allow this to serve as a source of updates on what's happening with me, but The Butch Stroll is heretofor the website That Of Which Shall Not Be Spoken, except to me. *gavel slam*
And now that I say that I'm going to not talk about my own personal melodrama so much anymore.