I can’t write about myself.
Ok, maybe as a teenager with a raging twitter addiction and over 115K tweets, I can write about myself. Short insights and sarcastic comments about my life and reaction to every aspect of almost everything I do, watch, or encounter are easy. On twitter I can change and switch between topics rapidly; no one has to take notice of everything, and if someone isn’t interested, they don’t need to pay attention. So maybe the problem isn’t that I’m a private person, since I am so open on the internet.
However, when I’m writing essays where the sole topic is personal, I can’t go into as much depth as it would be in if you, say, compiled all my tweets linked to the subject. And there’s my issue. Pretending you’re narrating your life like it’s a movie? Easy. Writing essays only expressing the bare minimal of one side of yourself? Yeah, probably still easy. Despite the, long, trawling lengths I’m aware I stretch towards, I still feel the need to plant in borderline-irrelevant information, so that I can show every side of my personality from the start. No one cares, Kirsty.
This raises the question (or at least, to me it does), at what point does extra information turn from scene-setting to boring? And how much detailed information about myself can I slot in before this internet-personality becomes an exaggerated, false version of me? From this I ponder further; does the selective information I put on certain sites, no matter how all-encompassing it be, really show my true personality? Could it be argued that that is my real personality- the internet-honesty I’m questioning cares a lot less about being judged or people disagreeing then in real life- not because I care less about people on there, but because I know that it would be a lot easier to escape than the same drama, if it were at school.
Would I be more withholding with certain information if it was directed towards one specific group of people I know? You’re damn right. I’ve removed sentences from articles because I wouldn’t want, for example, the boys in my biology class who make fun of my every creative endeavor to read, despite how many people I would love to know that fact. The relationships I have with people are all completely different based on common interests. I want to direct my ramblings to everyone who reads what I write, including those who are total strangers to me, and I want every person to be able to relate or be interested in it.
So maybe it isn’t writing about myself I can’t do, but writing for a small audience? I don’t know, we all have our flaws, and pinpointing where they come from would probably help if I didn’t question every thought I have twelve times. Writing a whole essay analysing the issues I have writing about myself has done something to my perspective, though.
Maybe I just need to be less self-aware?