I was once fired for being too honest about my childhood when asked about it. I was 18 or 19 and had absolutely no social filters. I didn’t realize my life was completely inappropriate dinner conversation until I was pulled aside one day by the manager.
“You make people sad. People don’t buy when they’re sad.”
I was let go by the end of the week when I hadn’t quite found the balance between give enough so they don’t think you’re ignoring them but not enough that they think you’re insane or depressing. It’s a delicate balance even now. I don’t want to make people sad, but when it comes to my life – you gotta keep reading for a long, long time to get to the good parts.
And by good, I mean the uplifting and the triumphant parts…not the pits of hell, tawdry crap that keeps me hooked to the ID Channel.
I want people to know the shocking and the tragic about my life. Not just because it was mine, but because it’s such a twisted – truth is stranger than fiction story. I swear if it wasn’t true it would make a rock awesome movie – racism, sex, insanity, mayhem and murder.
But I don’t want them to think poorly about me about things I had no freedom to control.
I do leak it out here and there, little things in a blog, stories I’ve told, tweets I’ve made, random bits in conversations. I haven’t followed the threads long enough to see if a person could fit the story together…
I think times a coming when I tell it all…in chronological order with no pretense. I’m mulling that over…
It’s a delicate place to be when the most innocent questions about your life come with answers that aren’t suitable for younger viewers.
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