Because the game I cover on the other blog has a T for Teen rating, most people won’t step on toes when it comes to discussing it. In fact, in the majority of cases, being a foul-mouthed, indignant woman over it is probably as ill-advised as anything on the Internet you do with words could possibly be. Except some days, the dam bursts. You wake up from a dream so vivid and suffocating that you wonder what the Hell’s going on in your subconscious, until it’s apparent that the previous day was so emotionally destructive your brain can’t deal with the consequences in one sitting. Last night, everybody was deliberately holding me back. Old places, favourite TV characters, situations all transpired to make it impossible for me to escape the gravity of the situation I was in. I was literally disabled by the world, forced to remain rooted to the same spot whilst other people dumped their issues on me. I knew what had to be written the moment I awoke and now I have? I actually feel better.
However, I’m not done.
This is my brain, most days. Slightly odd, clearly warped, but with a sense of humour. I get by, I survive, but when the pressures of the World attack that balance, stuff gives. Yesterday, I wrote something that upset somebody, and them watched them in my social media timeline say as much, without actually referencing me as the problem. We’d had a discussion about it shortly after publication, where I’d been asked to explain what I’d meant and after I did? Well, that wasn’t enough. The person concerned decided to make it their issue at the forefront and that’s absolutely fine. This is how modern life works, after all. So, I wrote a whole post explaining that, in a way I was comfortable with as the truth. It transpires all this person wanted from me was friendship, when that was never actually on the table to begin with. Because, like it or not, it takes two people to do that, and if you start off the process by getting upset with the way I write? Ultimately, never gonna happen. Sorry, but if I rub you up the wrong way with the words I use, it’s a pretty safe bet this won’t ever end well. I just have to show you my Block/Ignore list for ample evidence of that.
And so, life goes on.
Except I still feel guilty.
When you write, there is a danger that you stop making it about what you want and you begin to tailor to what others demand of you. Should I worry I might offend people? Is it right to use actual names? Can I point a finger at someone and be fair in my criticism when all I have is a subjective view? The thing is, after a while, you can tell the people who are writing for an audience, who are aware that they don’t want to upset anyone and as a result the net is cast so wide that their words are somehow lessened, softened by the lack of passion injected. That’s not how good writing works, at least in my mind. I’ll always take the passionate, enraged viewpoint especially if the writer can control that feeling in a manner that gives the work a direction and drive. That’s why poetry’s a brilliant form for those who need to be angry but not offend, why theatre can be so powerful and yet so widely interpreted. The format’s nearly as important as the content. I’ve taken a personal blog to daily levels this year because I’ve realise it helps my gaming/social media stuff make more sense. Except this morning, I couldn’t avoid the inevitable any longer. The people who call themselves Gamers have taken a bad wrap in the last 18 months, and with good reason. All the bad things don’t go away, they just submerge further and further into depths most people simply don’t visit. When you see people driven away by this that you know were voices of reason and intelligence? You get mad, and last night I snapped.
I have used my words therefore to make sure that ire is properly directed.
There’s a flip side to this, however, another side that needs to be told. That’s tomorrow’s Blog, and it’s been hard to write. However, once it’s done? I get to move on.