(no subject)

First day working in the Cardiac Unit Office was quite decent. Supplying a packet of chocolate biscuits and behaving with a suitably let-me-not-make-trouble-for-you-attitude helped. As for my cold, everyone is either coming down with one or has just had one, or is slap in the middle of one, so I'm hardly anything to write home about.

I was trying to think of a keyword for what the whole livejournal process is about. The best that I could come up with is "sharing". It's not just (just?) self-expression -- we could save our scribblings in a private notefile if we really wanted to. It's sharing, and deliberately choosing what to share, to a (hopefully) selected group of friends. It's a private poetry circle in which we all read our latest masterpieces. It's self-indulgent. It's also quite fun. But -- no, what was I trying to say? It is as much choosing what to share as it is the act of sharing that defines a person's livejournal. It's very rare that someone physically or emotionally can't go back and edit an entry. If I read your moans, it's because you choose to moan and I choose to read them. Same for your poetry, your wit, your jokes, your private life, whatever. Codependent relationships. (And, whenever livejournal goes down, addiction and withdrawal.)

(pauses to sneeze)

---

I am the spirit that denieth all things as nothing worth;
For all things called forth from the void deserve to be destroyed.
Twere better, then, naught were created;
Thus all which you as sin hath rated;
Destruction - aught with evil blent -
That is my proper element.

Faust, Goethe