What To Do About It? Part 2

But we do want to be known. It's part of being human. And yet we hold back. We want to be private about some parts of ourselves, too. Is that not right? Or is it only a matter of trust, of finding the person you can trust with your soul?

I said it was a contradiction. We often contradict ourselves, we human beings.

But wait. Do I have to take it all back? Because of Facebook, and MySpace and Instagram and Google+ and whatever else, which facilitate the revealing of those very personal stories, of secrets. And millions of us feel quite comfortable these days telling everything to the internet, to the air, to strangers--yes, I know, they're all our "friends." And, I suppose, Facebook and other social network facilities have caused us to believe our stories are of interest to strangers, to everyone. More's the pity. Because they're not really.

Facebook aside, and interest aside, have you never found yourself telling your story to someone on a plane? That stranger who seems to be listening, seems to want to know what you will say next. And you show your soul to this person you do not know. Or perhaps you have been on the other end. You have listened as a stranger poured something you thought terribly personal into your ears?

Perhaps we simply want to hear it or see it told. The story that means the world to us.

Obviously, I have not settled anything here, and obviously, I contradict myself from beginning  to end. Besides, there is much more to be considered. For instance, I haven't even brought up the subject of how fragmented and disjointed our lives are, which must have bearing on something.

I have figured out one thing. It's about me. This is about me. I cannot speak for anyone else.  And, speaking for me, I have no intention of laying open my soul, writing my story, on Facebook. Or even, I suppose, in my own journal. 

Yet there is something in me that wants to tell it, write it, before I die. To someone.