Censored

I think I'm censoring myself today.  It's still censorship even if self-imposed, and so I'm guilty.  Maybe self-censorship has a function.  I mean, you don't want to tell people that they look like shit or that you are fucking their husband, and maybe not telling your boss everything is handy, too.  

And so, I have just convinced myself that what I am doing is o.k.  More than o.k.  I am doing the world a service.  C.C. often reminds me--this after telling me to start the blog--that all of this talking and writing is, in the words of Samuel Beckett, just another stain upon the silence.  The page, then, is much like my white shirts after a meal.  

But I am cheating you out of some very juicy stories on the one hand, and saving you from the terrors inside my skull on the other.  What then, is there left to say?  

Nothing.  Is that the perfect art form?  Probably.  

Christ on a Cross, I'm having a hard time keeping my mouth shut.  There are secrets, though, that one must, for the sake of propriety, take to the grave.  

That being the case this morning, all I have left are opinions, commentaries, and self-deprecation.  

Everybody else has money.  

I have a story about a girl I "dated" once who had a vestigial tail.  Did I ever tell you that one?  She was pretty and didn't have webbed toes or anything (though I knew someone once who did), but she could even wiggle it.  I was not very taken with the tail.  I am like a wild animal about deformities of any sort.  I am far worse than you about those things, I can guarantee you.  I was scared by a circus freak when I was very young, and I think it scarred me permanently.  You can ask my mother about this.  By and large, though, I believe she thinks it funny.  Having grown up a dire hillbilly. . . it is all the same to her.  Waterheads, lazy eyes, cleft palates. . . you name it.  All God's Creatures, etc.  

Not me.  I'm spooked by even the most nominal deformities.  Can't help it.  I was a sensitive child.  

"But I've seen things you people wouldn't believe."

Once you are sensitized, I guess. . . .

Well, that's enough of that.  I need to stop before they decide to use the leeches.