The Dead Letter Room (Reprise)

I was thinking about the post I made yesterday and whether or not it crossed the line. Meaning, whether or not I shared too much? But I'm of the opinion that if it gets out there, it was meant to get out there. Meaning, I'm very confident in the fact that I always have my governor up and running. I'm not the type to open up and share for the sake of attention. I'm not an exhibitionist. I'm not a pornographer. So when I do share, I'm pretty sure it's safe. I've still a whole lotta secrets in tow. Things I wouldn't ever share in a public forum. But I think doing something like this, this project, entails being personal. That's at the core of this thing, I think.

The Dead Letter Room is this idea of influx... being inundated with the mundane, random, trivial, etc. and amid all that chaos, being able to filter out the noise and pull together something special. A lot of what's here is about me... it's all me, but a lot of it is just mundane. That's the white noise. That's the dirt. That's maybe the canvas? There's this idea of definition by discrimination. The personal things, the special things, are made more so by the fact that there's so much here that isn't. From the white noise comes the song. From the the dirt comes the bloom. I need a canvas I can work on... I can't just do. And I want to create, and I want to share... and that means having to be personal.

That's what all this was ever about. It's my microcosm of the world at large (specifically the Net). These dead letters... notes to people and places they'll never reach. This is my collection. There's something here to be taken away. All of that is dependent on the reader... and of course, the writer as well. A Dead Letter Room wouldn't be anything if it didn't have love letters in the mix, money in envelopes, deathbed confessions, etc. There's gotta be something real amid the masks and costumes. And there's much that I've taken away from people I'll never know... people who found the strength and courage to be real, open and honest... if only for a moment. Some can do it all the time, with anyone. I can't, but this is my attempt. It's karma. My attempt at fair trade. And for a moment I hesitated... or had this thought that it might be wrong. I just needed to remind myself what The Dead Letter Room was all about.


DS333, on track.