Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Emotional Exhibitionism

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Last night I thought of closing down my blog and just dropping out of the virtual world. My boyfriend talked me out of it. After 189 posts in nine months, why did I suddenly want to expunge my Internet existence?


I started blogging to deaden the sound of my anger and staunch the sobs heaving from the innermost part of my being. Now that they’re deadened and staunched, does my blog still hold some vestige of relevance? Why keep it going if it has already served its purpose?

I quote my first blogpost (24 May 2007) entitled, A Healing and a Wounding:

I never had the ability to keep sorrow to myself. Whenever something bothers me, I have to write everything down. The compulsion to write is always there, even if words oftentimes fail me. Writing has always been a source of solace to me - the exacting struggle of expressing my deepest feelings clears my mind and detaches me emotionally. My blog is a result of my waking up alone everyday, embittered and slightly dazed, struggling to ignore the presence of pain yet assailing the source of it with subtle but stinging words. It was both a healing and a wounding - a way to exhume and bury memories, unabashed hopes and unassuaged dreams; a way to break away from the spell of despondency.

From that day, I have somehow healed. Painful memories have been buried and replaced by a renewed sense of hope:

It used to be simply a place to wait for the dark depths to sail safely past, hoping that, somehow, it might muffle the deafening silence of my solitude. Now it’s not merely about exhuming and burying painful memories but a sacred indulgence and a means of brokering, yet again, a truce with life. (This Blog Has Evolved, posted 18 September 2007)

Emotional Exhibitionism

To be a blogger means you are willing to share all juicy tidbits, every gory detail, and each sordid and undignified aspect of your life to the faceless web-surfing masses. Do I continue exposing myself that much? There are things that must remain private and unsaid:

On this page, so much goes unsaid – emotions that can only be revealed in private; things that can never be for public consumption; thoughts that can - and should - only be shared with that one, special person. What is written carries meaning intentionally hidden and more profound than what is seen through a cursory glance. The intent is not to mislead or bewilder, but to be understood by the person who can understand – that person who can read through what is obscure and what remains unsaid. Sometimes, that - which is left unsaid - is what really matters. (So Much Goes Unsaid, posted 28 September 2007)

Or have i just reached the point where i have nothing sensible to say anymore?

Chronicle of a Love Story

This is where our love story began. In this interlinked, virtual world swarming with millions of blogs, D visited this site and never left. The moment he entered my life, he decided to stay.

Having been used to all conversation mired in obfuscation and prevarication, meeting somebody who is pure and true can be truly overwhelming. Aching with unabashed hopes and unassuaged dreams he found me. My beau ideal, the someone I can to talk to, the one who answered my invitation - he who loves me without expectations and with every fiber of his being has arrived. (The One, posted 11 October 2007)

Since then, Muffled Solitude has become a repository of dreams coming true and happy memories being relived. It will remain a witness to the wonders of the future and continue telling our love story.


Anonymous said...

Angie, Who's D? I'm still puzzled. I will kulit you until you tell me...How are you na?...kayni

Angeli said...

Hi kayni,

I'm doing great. Thank you. :) How about you? I miss reading your blogposts.. :)

Anyway, D is the "Iskolar ng Bayan" from way back. Remember him? :)

Anonymous said...

"..a sacred indulgence and a means of brokering, yet again, a truce with life."

Unmeretricious persiflage! :)

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