Truth Through Fiction
I've been fascinated with the idea of truth through fiction for quite sometime now. Particularly the idea that nothing can be captured truthfully, in the slightest, without some form of fictionalization. Sure, an event can be recounted, step by step, factually and with certainty, but from who's point of view? No one involved can relay a story exactly as it happened. They are hindered by limited perspective and personal bias. Anyone on the outside looking in, a reporter for example, can interview everyone involved and get every side but every story they get is skewed in some way. The big picture is pieced together with small flawed stories.
The reason I started this blog is because a friend of mine asked me to. He was saying one night how he wished all of our friends had blogs so he could keep up with their lives, keep up with what they had to say. And because I realized I wanted the same from all these friends, I figured it would be hypocritical of me to not have one myself.
Blogs are silly.
Nothing I've written in this blog is real. Some posts are obviously fictional. Stories I wrote to stifle my own boredom or workshop some silly idea. But most are disguised as some self indulgent true story about stupid little things that have happened to me. And while a lot are based on actual experience, there are some I just made up.
Hell, the posts based on actual experience are probably the biggest lies of them all. I leave so much out, I let so much lie, I'm telling a completely different story from what actually took place. Each post becomes a self important, angsty heep of nonsense as I pretend my words might hold some ambiguous yet universal meaning, touch on something even remotely human.
Is it presumptious and arrogant of me to assume this admition means anything to the few of you that read this? I'm genuinely curious. I mean, how many people are even surprised? Now that I'm writing about it, thinking about it, perhaps that's all actually expected and there's nothing to be surprised about. I don't even know.
Silly blogs.
The reason I started this blog is because a friend of mine asked me to. He was saying one night how he wished all of our friends had blogs so he could keep up with their lives, keep up with what they had to say. And because I realized I wanted the same from all these friends, I figured it would be hypocritical of me to not have one myself.
Blogs are silly.
Nothing I've written in this blog is real. Some posts are obviously fictional. Stories I wrote to stifle my own boredom or workshop some silly idea. But most are disguised as some self indulgent true story about stupid little things that have happened to me. And while a lot are based on actual experience, there are some I just made up.
Hell, the posts based on actual experience are probably the biggest lies of them all. I leave so much out, I let so much lie, I'm telling a completely different story from what actually took place. Each post becomes a self important, angsty heep of nonsense as I pretend my words might hold some ambiguous yet universal meaning, touch on something even remotely human.
Is it presumptious and arrogant of me to assume this admition means anything to the few of you that read this? I'm genuinely curious. I mean, how many people are even surprised? Now that I'm writing about it, thinking about it, perhaps that's all actually expected and there's nothing to be surprised about. I don't even know.
Silly blogs.
posted by AHaynes at 11:14 PM
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