Writing a blog is a lot like walking naked down a busy street.
All your junk is on display and you feel exposed and nervous as all the fully clothed people brush past you with disapproving, incredulous or – on the odd occasion – kind stares.
Some of them try to help you. Others misunderstand you. Pervs ask for your number.
All the while you wonder if Will Smith was right. I mean, who am I to be putting all my business out in the street?*
Yet you soldier on because you’ve realised that if you don’t get naked, then maybe no one ever will. Maybe you need to get naked for the good of the world.
Delusions of grandeur; the seductive temptress of public affirmation; the noble desire to stir up passion, energy and inspiration for change all come to the fore when you question why you decided to de-robe in the first place.
I have a sneaking suspicion that I have always been walking naked down the street, only now I have a URL to prove it.
Sure when the pressure gets to you, you start hunting around for some pants – or at least a seedy trench coat – to help convey some semblance of respectability.
But you’re soon bored; hungry to get raw again and have a conversation that matters… Or at least get some cheap laughs to distract people from the fact that you are, in fact, exposing yourself for the world to see.
So to all those people out there with pants on, I say this:
History will be my judge.
PS – $10 (in mixed lollies) to the first person who can accurately count the number of double entendres and inappropriate metaphors used in this post.
*If you haven’t seen Bad Boys II then shame on you.