Concrete

A thought is just a thought, floating around in this abyss I call my mind.
Every thought has possibilities. Something powerful, or exploratory. Perhaps introspective or just an observation. Sometimes humorous or deeply emotional. Occasionally even painful or my essence of happiness.

In my world, writing is akin to pouring concrete.
A thought poured into writing, has all the chances of becoming solid form, but no matter how quickly I wish it would dry, there is a space of time that it is still wet and vulnerable. This concrete can be easily enhanced or marred by outside influences.

This is the risk to reward of writing in a public journal.

       Have you ever come across freshly poured concrete? Although there may be signs posted everywhere, "Caution Wet Cement" the natural inclination is to duck under the yellow tape and scratch your initials in the still drying matter. A delightful way of leaving your stamp on something that will become set in stone.

       That is how I view comments.
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       I have come across far too many entries in other peoples journals lately that have expressed personal dismay over comments or emails they have received from people that hurt them to the core. This saddens me to the core. (Edit note: No, I haven't received anything but wonderful amazing comments here on my journal and if I minus the one email I received informing me a person would no longer be reading my journal because of my Prayer entry, all is perfect in my neck of the woods.)

       I am not immune to mistakes and I made a terrible mistake commenting once on a journal myself. I followed this persons journal religiously and left encouraging comments over and over. Supportive and heartfelt wishes for someone dealing with many not so pleasant things. My mistake came when I crossed the line by reading an entry, becoming emotionally distraught over the writers situation and commenting in a more forceful, here are some possible solutions for you manner. I know I wrote my suggestions out of shear concern and frustration over the journals situation, but I crossed an invisible line with the writer.

       My reward for my comment was a searing entry wrote the next day that ripped my concern and idea's to shreds. Although I was horrified that my comment had evoked such a tirade from another person, and I was deeply hurt that my concern was mocked as such, I learned an invaluable lesson.

       I learned that instead of scratching my initials in the writers cement, I had taken the liberty of placing one big old foot print mark in her world. Without realizing it, I ignored the yellow caution tape and stepped in her wet cement. Did I think the writer handled my misstep in a good way? Not at all. Have I ever commented there again? Nope, no thanks, because I believe the writer crossed a line with me too. Will I remember that little atrocity my entire timeline of public journal writing, your damn right I will~~ Two stomped on slabs of concrete is never a good thing.

       I believe words are the most powerful thing in the universe. Perhaps, some don't view words as such or understand the meaning of that sentence. Through words a person can convey something powerful, meaningful or insignificant.

       Through the power of words you can make a persons day, or with one un-thought sentence you can break them. Some of the most devious voices in my mind aren't thoughts I conjured up, but something someone said to me once, that I haven't been able to remove from memory, my concrete.

       When those words come to the forefront of my mind, I have to wonder sometimes if the person who said them, whether two years ago or ten years ago, would have said them if they knew I would never be able to forget their stomping in my concrete. That concrete dried, with their marks firmly set in stone. Tis a fact I cannot ignore. 

       That brings me back to comments. I find comments to be priceless gifts granted to me. Through comments I have discovered so many beautiful things about people, myself, and the world around me. I have discovered probably the most beautiful thing of all.

I am not alone. I am not alone...............

       Maybe this entry is just a reminder to myself to use caution when reading other people thoughts. The freshlypoured concrete is delicate and can be manipulated for enhanced beauty or it can be stomped on with possible permanent impressions. Journals are so unbelievably personal, they are the very lifeline into our inner workings, a privileged peek that really isn't surpassed in any other manner. It's the care and respect to the writer that needs to be adhered to above and beyond anything we might be personally thinking about said topic when commenting.

And thats just my wet cement of thoughts, always ready and accepting of the initials and impressions. Just no stomping please~~

And to Jodi    Looking Beyond the Cracked Window....  Thank you so much for your beautiful entry and poem. I will hold those concrete words near and dear to my heart forever~