Think of yourself as a Chicken...

Yes, a real chicken - the kind that lays eggs or fries up so neatly. Essentially, what few of us realize and all of us experience is that curious moment, in the coop, when the cannibalistic nature of the species comes to light.  And while you have been happily wandering about in the belief that everyone you encounter is honest and without agenda, with your rose coloured glasses - you fail to see that you are leaking blood from every orifice, and the natives are restless.  


There used to be ( and perhaps still is - I'm not up on my chicken facts ) a large market for 'Rose Coloured Glasses' for chickens.  This is real. 

It's a real photo.  It's a wooden chicken.  But yes- they are quite "hot" items for collectors of the 'oddities' of farm equipment. But, most importantly - it keeps the chickens from devouring themselves, and each other.  Because they are cannibals, and the sight of blood sends them into a frenzy, and the rose tint removes the 'red' contrast.  


It's not so easy on the internet.  While it is a wonderful tool, and can connect you with people from all over - it also can, and does, create a wonderful sense of 'remove'.  Those who ascribe to the theory that the person behind the words you read is little more than a cardboard cutout, with little value and lesser emotions than the displays at the liquor store you find hurt feelings, improper impressions, and callous words. 


See - this is not my first ride on the merry go round of blogging.  Those of you who read back see that I have blogged before - both in a similar venue to this and ( be prepared to be shocked here ) at a sex site.  No - I wasn't offering hints and tips on what position or technique will help you 'keep the excitement' - I was writing what felt right at the moment.  What amused, intrigued, angered or even needed to be said.  And there is feedback there - lots of feedback.  Which makes it addictive, because at heart I like the attention.  We all do when we sit down to write.  


And I entered the fray being over confident in my ability to sort out the 'fakes' and 'trolls' from the legitimate people.  Those people who were looking for another outlet or venue where the F-word was not taboo...


Fortunately, after many stops and starts I found that key group - those people who you just know that were you to sit down for coffee the conversation and discussion could last for hours.  


But what few talk about honestly is those people who are there for a single reason, and since it is integrally tied to their ego and view of their place in this world, everything, literally everything is wrapped up in your walking lock step with them, affirming their every move ( even the horrendous ones ) and for this writer the worst offense: making thoughtless comments that neither relate to what has been written or add a damn thing to the conversation.  


What we often fail to realize as readers is that while it does feel like a conversation with the writer, we are not privy to those oh so intimate tells that we have in real life, tone, facial expression, body language, even whether or not someone will meet your eyes.  While the words may bring you to tears at the horror of the scene, you don't know if the intention was simply to retell a story OR to create a sense of sympathetic openness in the readers one is cultivating.  Because in the mind of some, any attention is positive - keep them patting me on the head and I can continue to behave abominably because 'I've had it rough'.  I don't want to sound harsh or even dismissive of the natural and real ( and in my mind  GOOD ) stirrings of empathy and perhaps pity and even admiration. 


And yes - there is a point...


We all, those who blog; imagine, dream and fancy ourselves as facile and competent with our manipulations of the written word.  We read, see, relive and even imagine scenarios and scenes in our daily lives with a mental note ( or perhaps a jotting with a real pen to real paper ) "I must develop that idea".  And sometimes we do it extraordinarily well.  Exhibiting skills to rival Shakespeare in his facility with setting tone, scene and emotion.  Bringing you in, and making you see as we do.  Other times it's a near miss, and still others litter the floor with crumpled bits and half formed ideas. 


I'm just expanding to spend more energy in this exercise called writing in spaces where the coop isn't so crowded and the chickens don't require the rose tints.