I’ve been reading Le Liasons Dangeruses and it’s hot and fun and neat.  I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a short story in that style.  I uhm had the not-so-brilliant idea to start a livejournal flamewar between entirely consensual people about a fictional break up.  See a parallel?  It uhm, didn’t go well.  I feel guilty because I more or less pulled everyone into it and it turned into a whole drama and now people are very upset.  Maybe I should stop reading books.  They give me ideas.

Or maybe I should have paid more attention to the preface.  The author was not well thought of.  In fact, most of society reviled him, rejected him, and treated him like a monster.  By the end of his life he publicly repudiated the book and tried to start converting other people into rejecting the book.  If I think things like an internet flamewar are funny, I am going to be in limited company.  I like the satire involved.  I actually had a fairly long entry mostly done to continue on with the next stage of the drama.  I started getting specific.  Then someone told my friend that this process felt like an assault.  Like a violent airing of dirty laundry.  I panicked and deleted what I had written.  I’m kind of pissed off at myself for deleting it.  It was an interesting entry.  It had potential.  I had many points in my little entry that were wonderful jumping off points for my cohorts.  There were things for Noah, Sarah, and L to play off of.  It was completely over the top.  Truly.  How could anyone have magically been involved in my life in a daily fashion for 18 years without anyone hearing about it?  But I digress.

I was not going to post any of that here.  And that is when I realized that I was filtering the story.  For whatever reason this space is a space where I keep my writing absolutely publicly accessible.  I’m not going to require that anyone keep up with a bunch of other sources to follow this.  And most entries are fairly stand alone, I think.  That other blogging site is different.  It’s a community site.  It’s self-referential.    I think that if I had really wanted to do this right, the thing to do would have been to coordinate more.  Maybe all of us should have created a filter and written the whole thing to completion before publishing the entries at specific times or all at once.  That would have worked and been interesting.

Uhh… what we did was kind of lame and half-ass.  We weren’t writing fast enough.  And the people who had posted were not available all day to monitor the dwama and stomp on the flames.  Jury duty is kind of a bitch like that.  We probably should have thought of that too.  Shit.  My stupid is showing.  Or rather, maybe that I’m not the best planner at all times.  This was ill thought out.  That frustrates the hell out of me.  Now I don’t feel comfortable finishing.  Even if we did make a filter and do the whole thing off in private, I now have this ball of anxiety in my stomach.

You see, my filth rubbed off on my friend.  People are mad at her just because she was stupid enough to come be influenced by my.  The things I want to do are bad.  I triggered an “assault” through “violent airing of dirty laundry”.  Wow.  I’m going to now do everything I can to ensure I don’t run into that woman at a party.  I don’t think I would be able to look her in the face without feeling waves of shame.  I’ll take my shitty white trash taste away from you.  I’m sorry I did something somewhere you could possibly see it that you don’t like.