To Reveal, or Not to Reveal
Here’s where I am, today. Tomorrow, I may well be elsewhere.
I’ve been debating how much I should reveal about myself as a person.
Should I give up intimate details like a desperate Facebook-er, crying out for acknowledgement, validation – attention?
Should I give no specifics away and allow the content of this site, the verse and the musings, to be interpreted as the reader chooses?
It’s a difficult decision to make when I don’t know where this repository of my thoughts will ultimately go. I’m not vain enough to presume this droplet of my modest consciousness will make any great ripples in the oceans of the inter-webs, after all.
Perhaps, for now, the following will suffice:
I used to write and perform a lot. I’ve never really suffered from ‘stage-fright’, as such. I don’t know why. Maybe it comes down to a lack of pride/imagination/sense of shame.
What curbs my ability to perform, (live), now involve two things.
Firstly, A ‘breakdown’ a few years ago saw me cut myself off from the outside world. The pain of betrayal and being used birthed a paranoia so deep that, for months, I could not set one foot outside the front door and the thought of being near an open front door left me paralysed with anxiety.
This is not an exaggeration.
Things are much improved in that regard to the point that, with the aid of chemistry, I can get out on my own for a while. But I still have a long way to go.
Secondly, my memory is now shot to bits.
I can focus and create in the moment. I can recognise my own scribblings when presented with them. But ask me to recite any of my work off the top of my head and I generally come up blank.
Believe it or not, I have often finished a piece of work, closed my notebook and instantly forgotten the topic, not to mention the words of the piece I had just been writing.
The upshot is, yes I could, and probably would, perform a whole gig’s worth of material so long as, a) I have enough space between me and the audience and, b) all the required material was on autocue.