01.21.2003 - 9:00 pm
I think I should open a second diary. A diary no one else would think of. A diary where I could vent openly and crudely about anyone and everyone.
But part of me finds it sad that I would think of doing such a thing. I mean, isn't THIS my diary? Shouldn't I have the right to talk about ANYTHING in this diary? If I want to talk about how much my boyfriend whines or how fucked-up various ones of my friends are, shouldn't I be able to do that here?
But it always boils down to one thing: propriety. Why the fuck do I have propriety? I mean, I want to be blunt and honest. It feels so cleansing to be honest and say the multitude of things on your mind. But there's that deeply rooted proriety. There's those lessons stressed by my mother and teachers and all those adults in my life who raised me as a child, who taught me something in some manner. "Don't offend others. Don't say anything if you can't say something nice."
Who will I hurt? My boyfriend, my friends? Should I care if I hurt them with my honest opinons? Am I weak for not being able to say what I really want to say?
Or am I just an overly nice person. You'd think I wouldn't be, would you? You'd think after being everyone's scapegoat for years and years through school that I wouldn't be nice. WHY THE HELL AM I NICE?!? WHY THE HELL DO I STILL REALLY CARE ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK? STRANGERS, LOVED ONES, WHY THE FUCKIN' HELL DO I STILL CARE?!
I need to think on this for a while.
~Amanda~
