A word to my blog
I'd be talking right now if I could. I'd be talking about what sort of day I was having. I'd tell you that I was smiling and/or frowning. I'd tell you why my eyes were bright - and why I'd been crying. I'd tell you that everything was messed up and how everything was just right. I'd talk about the past and the future and the days that I feel good, and the days that I don't. In fact, I'd tell you and the world everything.
But you know why I don't. You know why I can't. You know why I certainly never will.
Instead, we'll talk about the weather - and I'll tell you about my calls to China and Japan on the weekends. I'll tell you who I talk to - but not always what was said. I'll paint you a picture of the parks that I sit in, but I won't tell you where they is. Could be New York or London or Los Angeles - but I won't say which. We'll even look at pictures of my mailbox, without talking about the sort of mail I get in it.
Later, maybe I'll tell you all about my favorite movies. You can even get a list of my CDs and my DVDs and MP3s, if you just ask me. Because if you had a list of the Weezer CD that I play more often than the Blink-182 CD, and the Lord of the Rings DVD that's on more often than the Treasure Planet DVD, then you'd totally have my number. And if you read everything I ever wrote, bound it all into a book, and wrote a commentary on it - you'd never have to wonder if you knew me. Because it's that simple - just that easy to know about me. To know about anyone.
*sigh* I'm sure that if you asked me, I'd tell you that you already know. And if you said you did, I'd tell you that you were wrong. And I bet if you wrote a story about it, I'd think it was pretty close. But, if you wrote a biography, I'd tell you to take out chapters 1-20. But even if you did that, you still wouldn't really be anywhere close to what I'm getting at.
Because let's face it. People aren't just the CDs they say their listening to or the DVDs they say that watch all the time or the books they say they read everyday or the TV shows they put on as background noise. They aren't a "Currently I am..." section on a blog. They aren't what they write in silly, mostly inane posts on the internet. They aren't even what they chat about to over half the people on their "buddy lists".
Because people aren't electrical pulses in a computer. They aren't files you can read and then just store later. They aren't what they like or where they are or what sorts of email they get. They aren't just extensions of the technology they submit to. All that's editted material. All that's read over by some internal editor that changes reality into creativity. All that's not exactly real.
Most of them - all of them are more than that. Living, breathing, thinking, feeling, and expressing beings. They can't be known purely through the things they express or the way they express them. Sarcasm, honesty, sincerity, disrespect are all just parts of the things that you can't only read on a page. To know someone, you have to know what is behind the page. You have to know the hand that holds the pen that writes. Otherwise, you know a persona - a narrator of life, without ever really knowing the life itself. And you can't just stop there.
You can't love a narrator. You can't love a pen that inks a life. You can't love the page that shows the markings of what a person is willing to share with a world that will always be skeptical. You can never know the writer by only knowing the writing. Likewise, you cannot love the writer by simply loving the writing. That's readership - that's love of literature, if you want to go so far as that. That's - at best - being a bibliophile, not a human in a relationship. That's just reading. Not knowing.
-RK
But you know why I don't. You know why I can't. You know why I certainly never will.
Instead, we'll talk about the weather - and I'll tell you about my calls to China and Japan on the weekends. I'll tell you who I talk to - but not always what was said. I'll paint you a picture of the parks that I sit in, but I won't tell you where they is. Could be New York or London or Los Angeles - but I won't say which. We'll even look at pictures of my mailbox, without talking about the sort of mail I get in it.
Later, maybe I'll tell you all about my favorite movies. You can even get a list of my CDs and my DVDs and MP3s, if you just ask me. Because if you had a list of the Weezer CD that I play more often than the Blink-182 CD, and the Lord of the Rings DVD that's on more often than the Treasure Planet DVD, then you'd totally have my number. And if you read everything I ever wrote, bound it all into a book, and wrote a commentary on it - you'd never have to wonder if you knew me. Because it's that simple - just that easy to know about me. To know about anyone.
*sigh* I'm sure that if you asked me, I'd tell you that you already know. And if you said you did, I'd tell you that you were wrong. And I bet if you wrote a story about it, I'd think it was pretty close. But, if you wrote a biography, I'd tell you to take out chapters 1-20. But even if you did that, you still wouldn't really be anywhere close to what I'm getting at.
Because let's face it. People aren't just the CDs they say their listening to or the DVDs they say that watch all the time or the books they say they read everyday or the TV shows they put on as background noise. They aren't a "Currently I am..." section on a blog. They aren't what they write in silly, mostly inane posts on the internet. They aren't even what they chat about to over half the people on their "buddy lists".
Because people aren't electrical pulses in a computer. They aren't files you can read and then just store later. They aren't what they like or where they are or what sorts of email they get. They aren't just extensions of the technology they submit to. All that's editted material. All that's read over by some internal editor that changes reality into creativity. All that's not exactly real.
Most of them - all of them are more than that. Living, breathing, thinking, feeling, and expressing beings. They can't be known purely through the things they express or the way they express them. Sarcasm, honesty, sincerity, disrespect are all just parts of the things that you can't only read on a page. To know someone, you have to know what is behind the page. You have to know the hand that holds the pen that writes. Otherwise, you know a persona - a narrator of life, without ever really knowing the life itself. And you can't just stop there.
You can't love a narrator. You can't love a pen that inks a life. You can't love the page that shows the markings of what a person is willing to share with a world that will always be skeptical. You can never know the writer by only knowing the writing. Likewise, you cannot love the writer by simply loving the writing. That's readership - that's love of literature, if you want to go so far as that. That's - at best - being a bibliophile, not a human in a relationship. That's just reading. Not knowing.
-RK
3 Thought(s):
This is all so very true... and very well said. I like this a lot - I think I'll get my sister to read it too!
Aww. Thanks. I'm glad you liked it - lemme know what the sis thinks ;)
Knowing this writer, I believe I know where this comes from. And may I just say, what a beautiful and profound way of expressing that side of yourself! :)
In short, you're right and you said it well.
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